iLibrarjp  of  Che  theological  ^emmarjp 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 


PRESENTED  BY 

The  Estate  of  the 
Rev,  John  B.  Wiedinger 
BR  125  .W335  1903 
Watkinson,  W.  L.  1838-1925 
Studies  in  Christian 
character 


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125 


Studies  in  Chris 
Character 


By  the  Rev. 

WILLIAM  L.  WATKINSON 

Author  of 

*'The  Blind  Spot,"    "Education  of  the  Heart,"    "The 

Bane  and  the  Antidote,"   Etc. 


New  York 


Chicago 


Toronto 


Fleming  H.  Revell  Company 

London  and  Edinburgh 


Copyright,  1903,  by 
FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 


New  York:  158  Fifth  Avenue 
Chicago :  63  Washington  Street 
Toronto :  27  Richmond  Street,  W 
London  :  2 1  Paternoster  Square 
Edinburgh  :    }o    St.    Mary    Street 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.  The  Surprises  of  the  Judgment     .      i 

II.  Self-Examination  .  •  .10 

III.  The  Brink  of  Failure  •  .    17 

IV.  Fined  Down         .  .  •  .21 

V.  The  Greatest  Gift  of  the  Greatest 

Giver  .  .  .  .  .26 

VI.  Technical  Training  in  the  Spiritual 

Life     .          .          ,  ,  .32 

VII.  Unsanctified  Trial      .  .  .40 

VIII.  Dry-Rot  in  Character  .  .42 

IX.  The  Secret  of  Speed   .  •  ,46 

X.  Self- Revelation  .  •  ,55 

XI.  Strained  Piety  ,  .  •  ,61 

XII.  Weariness  ,  .  ,  .73 

XIII.  The  Ingenuities  of  Love        ,  .    78 

XIV.  The  Value  of  Feeling  in  Christian 

Experience   .  .  .  .80 

XV.  A  Meditation  for  Easter      •  .    87 

XVI.  To  God      .  .  .  .  .99 

XVII.  The  Superior  Obligations  of  Chris- 

tians   .  .  .  .  .103 

XVIII.  The    Province    of    the    Will    in 

Christian  Experience      •  .110 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

XIX.  A  Meditation  for  Pentecost  .  ii6 

XX.  Diligence  in  the  Christian  Life  .  128 

XXI.  The  Two  Receptions    .           .  .134 

XXII.  Points  of  Departure  .          •  ,143 

XXIII.  Seen  and  Lost    ,          .          .  .155 

XXIV.  Calling  and  Character         .  .  159 

XXV.  Signs  of  Spiritual  Declension  .  171 

XXVI.  Imperfect  Attachments  to  Christ  .  182 

XXVII.  Justification  by  Works          .  .189 

XXVI I I.  A  Meditation  for  the  New  Year  .  195 

XXIX.  Quickening  Grace        .          .  .202 

XXX.  The  Dirge  of  the  Harvest   .  .  209 

XXXI.  The  Order  of  the  Juniper-Tree  .  212 

XXXII.  Uncaged  Birds   .          ,          ,  .222 

XXXIII.  Bad  Days  .          .           ,          ,  .230 

XXXIV.  Spiritual  Growth         •          •  .237 

XXXV.  Influence           •         •         •  .246 


THE  SURPRISES  OF  THE 
JUDGMENT 

Then  shall  the  righteous  answer  Him,  saying,  Lord,  when 
saw  we  Thee  an  hungered,  and  fed  Thee  ?  or  thirsty,  and 
gave  Thee  drink  ?  When  saw  we  Thee  a  stranger,  and  took 
Thee  in?  or  naked,  and  clothed  Thee?  Or  when  saw  we 
Thee  sick,  or  in  prison,  and  came  unto  Thee? — Matt,  xxt, 
37-39- 

The  righteous  feel  that  some  mistake  has  been 
made ;  they  recall  no  such  distinguished  oppor- 
tunities, they  are  sure  that  they  never  rendered  any 
such  splendid  service,  and  they  feel  altogether 
undeserving  of  such  eulogy  and  reward.  Never- 
theless, the  recognition  and  reward  are  time; 
their  action  in  life  had  a  breadth  and  grandeur 
which  they  themselves  did  not  suspect.  The 
Judge   has   made   no   mistake ;    He   discerns  and 

SERJOS  I.  I 


2         The  Surprises  of  the  Judgment 

recompenses  the  hidden  greatness  of  obscure  Hfe 
and  trivial  deeds.  It  is  pleasant  to  think  that  the 
day  of  doom  will  bring  this  relieving  aspect.  The 
common  idea  of  the  final  day  is  that  it  will  be 
wholly  one  of  conviction  and  humiliation.  No 
doubt  it  will  carry  enough  of  sadness ;  but  we 
must  not  overlook  the  fact  that  many  will  be 
startled  in  the  great  assize  at  the  revelation  of  the 
hidden  worth  of  their  apparently  insignificant  lives 
— one  of  the  many  delightful  surprises  that  the 
generous  King  reserves  for  His  lowly  yet  faithfiJ 
children. 

The  unconsciousness  of  genius  is  a  subject  that 
has  often  been  treated.  Columbus  never  knew 
that  he  discovered  America ;  he  died  without  any 
idea  that  he  was  the  grand  pioneer  we  now  know 
him.  It  was  years  before  it  dawned  upon  geo- 
graphers that  a  new,  vast  continent  had  been 
found.  What  would  he  think  of  his  discovery 
now.-*  Some  of  the  greatest  painters  would  be 
immensely  astonished  if  they  could  revisit  the 
earth,  and  find  that  pictures  painted  by  them 
in  poverty  and  sold  for  a  few  shillings  are  the 
masterpieces  of  famous  galleries.  Many  inventors 
and  discoverers  never  understood  the  significance 
of  their  experiments :  for  instance,  Franklin  had 
not  the  least  idea  that  his  kite  was  a  sign  in  the 
heavens   betokening   a   new   age.     And   Emerson 


The  Surprises  of  the  Judgment         3 

sings  beautifully  touching  one  of  the  greatest  of 
artists : 

The  hand   that  rounded  Peter's  dome, 

And  groined  the  aisles  of  Christian  RomOi 

Wrought  in  a  sad  sincerity: 

Himself  from  God  he  could  not  free; 

He  bullded  better  than  he  kneio : 

The  conscious  stone  to  beauty  grew. 

Tliere  is  an  unconsciousness  of  goodness  as 
there  is  an  unconsciousness  of  genius.  Good 
men  are  usually  unaware  of  all  that  their  actions 
imply  and  to  what  they  lead.  Everything  done 
by  them  seems  trivial  beyond  expression  so  far 
as  it  meets  their  eye  and  the  eye  of  others. 
They  have  to  do  with  "the  least  of  these."  The 
situation  they  hold  is  known  as  "a  poor  job." 
Their  contributions  to  various  causes  are  never 
large  enough  to  get  a  line  to  themselves,  and  are 
ignominiously  lumped  with  "small  sums."  They 
are  generally  spoken  of  as  being  people  "without 
influence."  In  fact,  they  are  "  lumped  "  in  every- 
thing ;  throughout  life  they  are  merged  in  the 
insipid  million.  And  so  thousands  of  noble  people 
see  only  the  meagre  aspect  of  their  circumstances, 
and  they  live  and  die  without  having  once  felt  the 
intrinsic  and  the  relative  greatness  of  what  they 
were  and  of  what  they  did.  Indeed,  we  hardly 
know  more  of  the  essential  grandeur  of  our  humaa 


4         The  Surprises  of  the  Judgment 

life,  of  the  significance  of  our  services,  gifts,  suffer- 
ings, and  influence,  than  the  oyster  in  the  dark 
gulf  knows  of  the  precious  pearl  it  secretes,  or 
the  coral  worm  the  magnificent  island  it  slowly 
builds  out  of  the  depths  of  the  sea. 

We  fail  to  apprehend  the  great  principles 
expressed  in  small  deeds.  The  material  or  social 
measure  of  an  act  may  be  trifling,  whilst  the 
motive  which  prompted  it,  the  principle  which 
underlies  it,  and  the  consequences  which  follow  it 
may  be  sublime.  We  look  chiefly  at  the  social  and 
material  measure,  which  is  the  accident :  Christ 
looks  at  that  which  is  of  the  essence.  When  we 
take  our  walks  in  nature,  many  large  and  magni- 
ficent objects  strike  the  eye ;  they  cannot  be 
overlooked,  they  are  so  considerable  and  splendid : 
but  the  scientist  observes  minute  creatures,  shells, 
and  mosses,  things  which  altogether  escape  the 
naked  eye ;  he  takes  these  home  with  him,  magni- 
fies them,  throws  them  on  the  screen,  and  micro- 
scopic life  and  vegetation  are  seen  to  rival  in 
elegance,  loveliness,  and  richness  the  most  exquisite 
and  gorgeous  objects  of  sky  and  landscape ;  the 
minute  contents  of  a  drop  of  water  in  finish  and 
splendour  match  the  star  and  flower,  the  buttei-fly, 
bird,  and  rainbow.  Size  is  the  merest  accident, 
the  vast  and  the  minute  are  kindred  in  glory  and 
worth.     We  may  be  sure  that  it  is  the  same  with 


The  Surprises  of  the  Judgment         5 

the  doings  of  human  life.  Our  actions  are  petty, 
obscure,  microscopic,  unnoticed  in  the  doing,  and 
when  done  instantly  forgotten.  Evei-ybody  can 
see  the  charity  of  Peabody  in  the  immense  blocks 
of  building  which  he  erected  for  the  poor ;  every- 
body hears  from  fame's  golden  trumpet  of  the 
magnanimity  of  Shaftesbury;  he  that  runs  may 
read  on  the  page  of  histoiy  of  memorable  deeds 
of  justice,  honour,  and  humanity:  but  the  duties, 
offerings,  and  sacrifices  which  make  up  the  life  of 
the  multitude  absolutely  lack  emblazonment  or 
distinction.  The  fierce  light  of  the  last  day  will, 
however,  reveal  these  hidden  things  of  insignifi- 
cance, and  picture  them  in  large  characters  on  the 
great  white  throne,  as  minute  life  is  disclosed  on 
the  screen  of  the  naturalist.  Then  it  will  be  seen 
that  the  bald  and  contemptible  things  of  humble 
life  are  one  with  historic  and  immortal  achieve- 
ments. In  that  day  multitudes  of  lowly  souls  will 
learn  with  unutterable  wonder  of  the  breadth, 
seiiousness,  and  glory  of  actions  which  once  ap- 
peared so  small ;  they  will  look  upon  the  revelation 
of  themselves  with  a  delighted  surprise,  as  we 
might  suppose  the  microscopic  creatures  would  do 
if  they  could  see  their  transfigured  foi-ras  in  the 
magic  of  the  lantern. 

We  do  not  see   the   immense   importance  of  a 
small  part  well  played.     We  are  chiefly  struck  by 


6         The  Surprises  of  the  Judgment 

the  great  positions  and  by  those  who  occupy  them. 
We  estimate  ourselves  lightly,  as  we  do  all  others 
who  *'fill  a  little  space."  Irving,  the  theatrical 
authority,  is  said  to  attach  the  greatest  importance 
to  the  perfonnance  of  small  parts  in  his  pieces. 
He  is  reported  as  saying,  ''  I  can  get  anybody  to 
play  good  pai'ts ;  but  it  is  a  very  difficult  thing  to 
get  an  actor  to  play  small  parts  as  I  wish  to  see 
them  played."  He  insists  on  the  special  import- 
ance of  these  small  parts  and  the  extraordinary 
difficulty  there  often  is  in  effectually  sustaining 
them.  The  ambitious  aspire  to  figure  as  Othello, 
Lear,  Hamlet,  Romeo,  and  so  forth.  He  has  no 
difficulty  to  find  men  willing  to  take  principal  cha- 
racters, and  of  these  leading  actors  the  public  talk ; 
the  critic,  however,  is  aware  how  much  the  unnoted, 
silent  player  of  a  subordinate  part  contributes  to 
the  perfection  and  power  of  dramatic  representation. 
His  part  is  essential  and  difficult,  and  if  badly 
executed  mars  the  most  brilliant  perfonnance.  Is 
not  this  exactly  so  in  human  life?  We  talk  of 
the  great  actors  in  the  drama  of  life — statesmen, 
philosophers,  captains,  millionaires ;  but  God 
knows  the  immense  importance  of  the  small 
parts,  and  He  knows  the  high  qualities  necessary 
to  the  successful  carrying  of  them  out.  What 
patience  the  small  part  demands  !  What  strength 
to  sustain  it  uncomplainingly  !     WTiat  resignation 


The  Surprises  of  the  Judgment         7 

to  work  without  friction  within  such  narrow  limits  ! 
WTiat  heroism  to  utterly  subordinate  oneself  whilst 
others  loom  large  in  the  front!  ^\Tiat  faith  to 
keep  on  through  the  weaiy  years  without  a  cheer  ! 
Ko  test  of  character  is  more  severe  than  a  small 
part.  The  Master  laiows  all  this  more  perfectly 
than  it  is  possible  for  us  to  know  it,  and  He  will 
in  the  decisive  day  reward  most  handsomely  the 
great  actors  who  have  played  so  well  the  small 
parts.  Tliey  shall  have  a  cheer  then  to  atone  for 
the  chilling  silence  now.  He  who  has  been  faith- 
ful in  that  which  is  least  shall  justly  take  his  place 
with  the  illustrious  ones  who  have  been  faithful  in 
muchj  for  he  is  worthy.  Dr.  Carpenter  once  sent 
to  Sir  Charles  Lyell  the  copy  of  a  monograph  that 
he  had  written  on  an  obscure  specimen  of  natural 
history,  and  in  doing  so  he  sent  a  sort  of  apology 
for  having  tried  to  make  so  much  out  of  what 
might  be  thought  a  small  and  trivial  subject.  The 
great  geologist  replied,  "  Any  single  point  is  really 
the  universe."  Let  us  remember  this  in  hfe — any 
single  point  is  reall}'  the  universe.  When  one  vital 
fact  is  thoroughly  known,  all  is  known ;  when  one 
duty  is  well  done,  the  whole  range  of  obedience  is 
fulfilled.  We  are  faithful  in  that  which  is  least, 
and  Omniscience  sees  in  the  small  and  trivial  thing 
so  bravely,  lo^'ally  wrought  the  potentiality  of 
highest  and  completest  service. 


8         The  Surprises  of  the  Judgment 

We  do  not  know  the  far-reaching  influence  of 
small  acts.  We  perform  a  deed  of  simple  honesty, 
justice,  pity,  helpfulness,  and  straightway  forget 
it ;  we  do  not  think  of  the  mustard-tree  that  is  to 
gi'ow  out  of  the  smallest  of  seeds.  It  is  said  that 
the  fuchsia  was  introduced  into  this  country  by  a 
sailor  boy,  who  brought  it  from  a  foreign  clime  as 
a  present  for  his  mother;  she  exposed  it  in  her 
modest  window,  it  became  an  attraction,  and  that 
plant  pioneered  all  the  fuchsias  of  the  coimtiy. 
How  little  that  sailor  boy  knew  what  he  was 
doing!  He  did  far  more  than  he  thought.  He 
has  gladdened  thousands  of  eyes  and  hearts.  If 
he  could  come  back  to-day  and  see  his  plant 
blooming  on  the  window-sills  of  the  poor,  in  the 
gardens  of  the  rich,  in  the  conservatories  of  connois- 
seurs, how  surprised  and  gladdened  he  would  be ! 
If  he  is  a  public  benefactor  who  makes  two  blades 
of  grass  grow  where  only  one  grew  before,  what 
shall  be  said  of  him  who  makes  a  million  plants 
bloom  where  not  one  bloomed  before  ?  So  we  per- 
form nameless  acts  of  kindness,  forbearance,  and 
equity,  we  speak  fugitive  words  of  truthfulness  and 
courtesy,  and  these  have  a  self-propagating  power 
and  go  on  reproducing  themselves  in  endless 
harvests.  How  much  good  to  the  race  shall  spi'ing 
out  of  the  little  fidelities  and  humanities  which  make 
np  the  life  of  the  ordinary  good  man,  who  shall  say  ? 


The  Surprises  of  the  Judgment         9 

Lord  Byron  awoke  one  morning  and  found  him- 
self famoxis ;  let  us  do  our  little  task  with  all  our 
heartj  and  we  too,  unknown  to-day,  shall  wake  up 
in  the  morning  satisfied  and  wondering  at  the  large 
meanings  and  consequences  of  a  short  life. 

With  aching  hands  and  bleeding  feet 
We  dig  and  heap,  lay  stone  on  stone; 

We  bear  the  burden  and  the  heat 

Of  the  long  day,  and  wish  'twere  done 

Not  till  the  hours  of  light  return, 

All  we  have  built  do  we  ducen. 


n 

SELF-EXAMINATION 

Examine  yourselves,  whether  ye  be  in  the  faith ;  prove 
your  own  selves.  Know  ye  not  your  own  selves,  how  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  in  you,  except  ye  be  reprobates  ? — 2  Cor.  xiii.  5. 

Without  doubt  these  words  have  been  greatly  mis- 
understood, and  grievous  harm  has  resulted  from 
their  misinterpretation.  Some  of  the  Corinthians 
denied  the  reality  of  St.  Paul's  apostolic  calling  and 
character,  and  in  the  text  he  says  to  these  unfriendly 
critics :  Examine  yourselves,  and  in  the  reality  of 
your  own  spiritual  life,  which  was  derived  through 
my  ministry,  you  shall  best  prove  the  genuineness 
of  my  Christian  character  and  the  authority  of  my 
position  in  the  Christian  Church.  If  you  are  true 
Christians,  my  ministry  is  vindicated ;  you  can  dis- 
credit my  authority  only  by  proving  yourselves  to 
be  reprobates.  But  this  verse  has  been  made  to 
sanction  a  doctrine  of  morbid  self-scrutiny  utterly 
at  variance  with  the  healthiness  and  reasonable- 
ness of  the  New  Testament.  The  doctrine  of  self- 
examination  lias,  on  the  whole,  been  a  vary  nielan- 
10 


Self-Examination  1 1 

choly  one.  It  is  painful  to  think  of  the  infinite 
self-torture  of  many  sincere  but  misguided  souls, 
alike  in  mediaeval  and  modern  times.  The  history 
of  self-examination  is  a  history  of  days  and  years 
blighted  by  moi-bid  introspection  and  disheartening 
analyses  of  thoughts,  feelings,  and  acts.  Narcissus, 
enamoured  of  his  own  beautiful  image  reflected  in 
the  silvery  fountain,  was  changed  into  a  flower ;  but 
what  toadstool  kind  of  transformation  is  likely  to 
follow  persistent  brooding  over  the  vision  of  sin 
disclosed  in  the  turbid  depths  of  our  own  heart? 
It  will  pay  us  better  to  look  up  at  a  fairer  vision. 
Self-vivisection  is  one  of  the  worst  forms  of  that 
illegal  science. 

Still,  self-acquaintance  is  a  duty — a  duty  to  be 
performed  in  a  wise  spirit,  and  we  ought  from  time 
to  time  to  assure  ourselves  of  our  heart,  our  cha- 
racter, and  our  walk.  South  ey  relates  concerning  a 
nmi  who  escaped  from  a  nunnery  in  Lisbon  that  the 
first  thing  she  inquired  for  on  arriving  at  the  house 
in  which  she  was  to  be  secreted  was  a  looking-glass . 
for  many  years  she  had  not  seen  her  own  face. 
That  curiosity  we  all  understand.  And  surely  it  is 
reasonable  that  we  should  know  the  features  of  our 
soul ;  without  doubt  it  is  as  rational  and  helpful  to 
look  into  the  glass  of  a  perfect  law  as  to  survey  our 
face  in  the  min-or. 

"  Examine  yourselves  "  :  not  your  iieighhours.  The 


I  a  Self-Examination 

Corinthians  had  been  busy  in  their  criticisms  on 
the  apostle  ;  he  asks  them  for  a  while  to  turn  the 
keen  investigation  upon  themselves.  To  judge  our 
neighbour  is  a  pleasure  that  rarely  palls ;  but  self 
demands  attention  as  well  as  society.  One  of  the 
Puritans  says,  "The  windows  of  the  soul  should 
be  like  the  windows  of  Solomon's  temple,  'broad 
inward.' "  We  are  to  watch  ourselves,  to  judge 
ourselves,  to  condemn  ourselves,  far  more  severely 
than  we  do  the  Church  or  the  world. 

"  Examine  yom*selves  "  :  do  not  confuse  yourself 
with  others.  "  Prove  your  onm  selves."  The  other 
day  I  saw  two  lads  weighing  themselves  on  a 
weighing-machine ;  they  put  the  penny  into  the  slot, 
and  together  got  upon  the  scale.  They  thought  to 
defraud  the  proprietor  of  the  machine  by  their 
cleverness,  two  occupying  the  scale  intended  for 
one.  The  result  must  have  been  very  imsatisfactory 
to  the  astute  youths.  They  knew  their  aggregate 
weight,  but  neither  of  them  knew  his  personal 
weight.  Their  cleverness  defeated  itself,  as  clever- 
ness so  often  does.  What  they  scaled  together 
was  clear  enough,  whatever  value  such  knowledge 
might  have  ;  their  individual  weight,  however,  was 
as  great  a  problem  as  ever.  As  I  watched  the  lads 
it  struck  me  that  in  making  our  moral  estimates  we 
sometimes  fall  into  a  similar  fallacy.  We  do  not 
detach  ourselves  and  seek  to  ascertain  our  personal 


Self-Examination  13 

merit ;  we  ingeniously  confuse  ourselves  with  others : 
we  are  sons  and  daughters  of  parents  who  have 
passed  into  the  skies ;  we  recall  the  happy  and  dis- 
tinguished associations  and  friendships  of  past  years ; 
we  are  linked  with  a  devout  husband  or  wife  ;  our 
children  have  arisen  to  honour ;  in  the  Church  we 
are  numbered  with  the  saints.  We  do  not  isolate 
ourselves  and  prove  our  own  selves;  we  identify 
ourselves  with  others  with  whom  we  happen  to  be 
associated.  Let  us  avoid  this  snare.  Such  con- 
fused estimates  are  Uttle  worth.  We  shall  at  last 
be  weighed  in  the  balances  one  by  one,  so  had 
better  weigh  ourselves  that  way  now. 

**  Examine  yourselves  "  :  know  your  real  selves,  not 
ifour  seeming  selves.  We  sometimes  fancy  that  we 
know  ourselves,  when  in  fact  we  know  only  our 
seeming  selves.  The  Chinese  are  said  to  be  fondest 
of  that  dress  which  most  effectually  conceals  their 
true  figure ;  and  by  a  variety  of  sophistries  we  hide 
our  real   selves    from   ourselves.     "  Their  inward 

thought  is "  Yes,  that  is  what  we  want  to  get 

at — the  inward  thought,  the  hidden  man  of  the 
heart.  Strictly  examined,  oiu-  virtues  may  turn 
out  to  be  no  virtues  at  all.  Zeal  keenly  tested 
proves  to  be  temper,  charity  reveals  itself  as  vain- 
gloriousness,  economy  is  disguised  covetousness, 
courage  is  presumption,  honesty  is  expediency  with 
a  fine  name,  conscientiousness  is  only  the  subtle 


14  Self-Examination 

working  of  self-will,  contentment  is  really  sloth, 
and  amiability  an  easy-going  disposition  that  lets 
things  slide.  We  must  not  be  content  to  note  the 
surface.  God  will  try  us  and  our  work  by  fire  that 
He  may  show  of  what  sort  it  is ;  and  we  ought  to 
apply  to  ourselves  very  closely  the  eternal  tests 
of  truth  and  righteousness.  Let  us  seek  to  know 
ourselves  as  we  are  known  of  God. 

''  Examine  yourselves  "  :  your  present  selves,  not 
t/our  old  selves.  It  is  rather  a  common  thing  to 
judge  ourselves  by  what  we  knew  and  felt  and  did 
in  past  years.  Yet  we  may  have  been  right  then, 
and  now  have  ceased  altogether  to  be  so.  A  dis- 
astrous change  has  taken  place,  and  taken  place  so 
gradually  that  we  have  failed  to  note  it.  Sweden- 
borg  says  that  physical  dying  is  sometimes  so  easy 
a  process  that  he  met  with  people  in  the  spiritual 
universe  who  did  not  know  that  they  were  dead 
imtil  he  called  their  attention  to  the  fact.  How- 
ever this  may  be,  it  is  unquestionable  that  the 
divine  life  can  ebb  away  silently  and  imperceptibly. 
Little  by  little  the  selfish,  the  worldly,  the  pleasant, 
and  the  profitable  destroy  the  spirituality  of  our  life 
and  service.  We  may  have  a  name  to  live  when 
our  profession  is  merely  a  shroud  and  when  Christ 
has  wept  over  us  far  bitterer  tears  than  He  wept 
over  Lazarus.  Are  we  converted  men  and  women 
now?     Is  the  divine  fire  burning  still?     Are  our 


Self-Examination  15 

prayers  availing  to-day  ?     Are  our  last  works  more 
than  the  first  ?     These  are  the  questions. 

*'  Examine  yourselves "  :  no  one  else  can  do  it. 
The  ecclesiastic  insists  that  the  priest  must  exa- 
mine us  :  he  must  put  searching  questions,  draw- 
ing out  the  secrets  of  the  soul ;  he  must  receive 
our  confession  and  absolve  us.  Keble  writes  to  a 
young  man :  "  I  thmk  you  had  better  begin  im- 
mediately to  prepare  for  what  is  called  general 
confession  by  reviewing  your  whole  history,  and 
setting  down  your  sins  as  well  as  you  can.  And, 
having  this  paper  by  you,  you  may  add  to  it  from 
time  to  time,  as  new  faults  occm*  or  old  ones  ai*e 
remembered ;  and  then,  when  a  good  opportunity 
comes,  you  may  pour  it  all  out  into  your  loving 
Lord's  ear,  through  one  of  His  unworthy  priests, 
and  be  by  Him,  through  the  priest's  mouth,  so 
fully  absolved,  that  the  sins,  if  not  returned  to, 
shall  be  no  more  mentioned  unto  you."  How  false 
is  it  all!  "Examine  j/oMr^eZce*"  in  the  face  of  God, 
in  the  light  of  His  word,  at  His  mercy-seat.  He 
tries  the  heart ;  to  Him  we  open  our  grief;  He  ab- 
solves. "  When  thou  prayest,  enter  into  thy  closet ; 
and  when  thou  hast  shut  thy  door,  pray  to  thy 
Father  which  is  in  secret."  The  most  abominable 
sacrilege  is  not  that  of  the  thief  breaking  into  a 
church  and  stealing  the  communion  -  plate ;  that 
sacrilege   is   perpetrated  when  one   profanes   the 


l6  Self-Examination 

closed  door  within  which  the  penitent  talks  with 
God. 

The  grand  test  in  self-  examination  is  this  : 
"  Know  ye  not  your  own  selves,  how  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  in  you,  except  ye  be  reprobates  ?  "  One  of 
the  gi'eat  perversions  of  the  duty  of  self-examina- 
tion is  that  we  make  it  more  a  quest  for  the 
evil  in  us  than  a  quest  for  the  good.  The  miner 
does  not  look  for  the  dust  and  dirt  of  tlie  mine ; 
he  watches  for  the  streak  of  gold.  Ani^  we  must 
not  search  our  heart  for  the  beast  and  the  devil, 
but  for  the  manifestations  of  the  indwelling  Christ. 
Have  we  the  love  of  Christ  in  our  heart  ?  Does 
our  disposition  breathe  the  spirit  of  Christ  ?  Is  the 
image  of  Christ  revealed  in  our  character?  Do 
we  walk  as  Jesus  walked  below  ?  The  everlasting 
thought  of  sin  will  not  save  us :  the  vision  of  Jesus 
ever  more  clearly  revealed  in  our  heart  saves  to  the 
uttermost.  If  Christ  is  not  in  us.  He  waits  at  our 
heart's  door ;  if  He  is  in  us,  we  are  gold  of  the 
sanctuary  becoming  purer  with  each  day. 


Ill 

THE  BRINK  OF  FAILURE 

When  I  said,  My  foot  »lippeth  ;  Thy  mercy,  O  Lord,  held 
me  up. — Ps,  xciv.  i8. 

All  men  of  aspiration  are  acquainted  with  the 
brink  of  failure,  the  spiritual  man  most  of  aU.  He 
who  was  the  greatest  and  noblest  of  our  race  came 
nearest  the  verge  of  absolute  and  awful  disaster. 
The  Cross  marked  the  extreme,  outermost  edge  of 
the  brink  of  failure.  And  yet  from  that  coign 
of  disadvantage  spring  the  glories  and  triumphs 
of  Christianity.  It  is  so  strong  and  victorious 
because  its  Author  trembled,  bled,  cried,  swooned, 
and  died.  Speaking  after  the  manner  of  men, 
Christ  came  the  nearest  of  all  mighty  spirits  to 
utter  and  irretrievable  breakdown  in  the  awful 
dereliction  and  jeopardy  of  Calvary ;  but,  crucified 
through  weakness.  He  hveth  by  the  power  of  God, 
and  we  by  Him. 

The  Christian  life,  full  as  it  is  of  high  and  bold 
speculation,  is  most  familiar  with  the  consciousness 
of  possible  and  terrible  defeat  and  failure.     That 

SERIES  I.  2 


1 8  The  Brink  of  Failure 

life  begins  in  the  sense  of  helplessness  and  hope- 
lessness. Most  Christians  once  found  themselves 
reduced  to  desperate  straits ;  they  saw  nothing 
between  themselves  and  ruin ;  they  were  on  the 
point  of  losing  heart  and  hope.  The  penitent  is 
sinking  in  the  flood  for  the  third  and  last  time, 
when  He  who  walks  the  wave  stretches  out  a 
saving  hand.  The  brand  is  already  kindled  when 
it  is  plucked  from  the  burning.  Wlien  we  feel 
that  we  are  losing  Hfe  we  find  it.  The  sense  of 
deep  failure,  of  almost  hopeless  failure,  seems  to 
be  the  necessary  condition  of  all  high  excellence ; 
and  it  is  out  of  pathetic  humihations  and  baffled 
strivings  that  the  regenerate  life  springs.  How 
near  the  chrysalis  seems  to  come  to  the  dust  of 
death,  and  yet  it  is  just  there  and  then  that  the 
sylph  awakes !  The  shining  saint  is  bom  of  the 
consciously  undone  sinner.  The  brink  of  the  gulf 
of  despair  is  the  verge  of  heaven. 

The  Christian  life  is  largely  worked  out  with  the 
sense  of  suspense  and  failure.  The  righteous 
often  know  themselves  "scarcely  saved."  Secular 
success,  even  with  the  greatest  men,  comes  almost 
always  perilously  near  to  failure.  Says  Mr.  Harry 
Quilter,  "  An  accomplished  artist  said  to  me  once, 
'  No  picture  is  worth  anything  till  it  has  been 
spoiled  three  times ' ;  and  it  is  true,  I  think,  that 
what  makes  any  given  picture  great  is  gathered 


The  Brink  of  Failure  19 

from  the  very  brink  of  failure."  So  the  artist 
proceeds  with  liis  task  in  alternate  moods  of 
inspiration  and  dejection,  now  striking  the  line 
of  beauty  and  anon  marring  it  with  infelicitous 
touch,  sometimes  grasping  the  ideal  only  to  drop 
again  into  commonplace ;  and  if  at  last  a  gi'eat 
picture  is  achieved,  the  artist  knows  that  what 
makes  the  masterpiece  has  been  gathered  from 
the  very  brink  of  failure.  "  Spoiled  three  times  " 
before  it  "is  worth  anything."  How  many  times 
are  Christian  men  consciously  spoiled  in  the 
making?  Not  three  times  merely,  but  rather 
seventy  times  seven.  That  which  makes  the  saint 
great  is  gathered  from  the  very  brink  of  failure. 

A  great  lesson  is  here,  and  genuine  consolation 
for  all  Christian  men  and  women.  How  often  are 
we  chilled  with  a  dreary  sense  of  failure,  our  prayers 
seeming  ineffectual,  our  endeavours  fruitless,  our 
long  and  painful  strivings  to  fall  short  of  the 
goal !  But  we  must  remember  that  all  grand 
aspiration  involves  experiences  of  discouragement, 
amazement,  and  acute  apprehension ;  and  yet  that 
the  dawn  is  nearest  when  the  night  is  darkest,  the 
victory  most  assured  when  the  exhausted  warrior 
sinks  on  his  knees.  In  the  sense  of  helplessness  we 
die  to  self;  here  we  know  that  God  is  all  in  all. 
Noble-souled  men  find  the  brink  of  failure  en- 
chanted ground ;  there  gi'ow  the  loveliest  flowers. 


20  The  Brink  of  Failure 

there  are  seen  the  fairest  visions,  there,  not 
being  able  to  stand  on  our  feet,  we  begin  to  try 
our  wings.  The  Indians  say  that  you  can  step 
from  one  of  their  high  hills  to  the  celestial  city ; 
but  really  the  brink  of  failure  is  the  gate  of 
heaven. 


IV 

FINED  DOWN 

Who  can  understand  his  errors?   cleanse  Thou  me  from 
secret  faults. — Ps,  xix.  12. 

We  may  often  notice  how  the  vulgar  vices  re- 
appear subtly  disguised  in  cultured  circles.  All 
the  offensive  aspects  of  low  licence  have  been 
cancelled ;  there  is  no  bad  language,  no  filthy 
habit,  no  smell  of  gin,  no  brawling,  no  pocket- 
picking  ;  and  yet  closer  acquaintance  with  the 
fine  gentlemen  and  ladies  shows  that  the  falsity, 
the  cruelty,  the  malice,  and  the  intemperance  which 
shocked  us  in  the  uneducated  still  survive.  The 
grossness  of  the  vices  has  been  completely  purged, 
everything  now  is  delicate  and  distinguished,  and 
there  is  nothing  any  longer  to  disgust  or  alarm. 
But  the  viciousness  is  not  extinct.  The  vile  body 
has  been  changed  into  a  glorious  body,  yet  the 
bad  essence  persists  in  the  softened,  polished, 
and  elegant  speech  and  manners  of  cultured 
life. 

Is  there  not  something  like  this  in  the  saintly 

21 


22  Fined  Down 

life  as  compared  with  tlie  old  life  ?  All  the  vices 
to  which  the  soul  is  heir  strive  to  reassert  them- 
selves in  the  Christian  believer,  and  too  often 
succeed  in  disturbing  liis  peace  and  injuring  his 
character.  They  are  not  now  gross,  offensive, 
violent;  they  are  smooth  and  subtle,  filmy  and 
tenuous  ;  they  may  even  fail  to  provoke  the  notice 
and  criticism  of  those  who  know  us  best.  Yet  we 
recognise  in  them,  through  their  profoandest 
disguises,  the  deadly  vices  which,  seen  in  their 
nakedness,  all  men  loathe.  Andrew  Bonar  writes 
in  his  diary :  "  This  day  twenty  years  ago  I 
preached  for  the  first  time  as  an  ordained  minister. 
It  is  amazing  that  the  Lord  has  spared  me  and 
used  me  at  all.  I  have  no  reason  to  wonder  that 
He  uses  others  far  more  than  He  does  me. 
Yet  envy  is  my  hurt,  and  to-day  I  have  been 
seeking  grace  to  rejoice  exceedingly  over  the 
usefulness  of  others,  even  where  it  casts  me  into 
the  shade.  Lord,  take  away  this  Achan  from 
me ! "  Again  later  he  writes :  "  In  my  usual 
reading,  in  Genesis  xxxvii.,  I  see  how  envy  leads 
God  to  heap  more  blessing  upon  the  envied  one, 
and  to  withhold  from  the  envier.  Now,  this  has 
been  my  fault  in  regard  to  brethren  who  have  been 
blessed.  I  have  sought  to  find  reasons  why  they 
should  not ;  like  the  men  in  the  parable,  murmur- 
ing against   the  good   man   giving  his   money  to 


Fined  Down  23 

them.  Also,  Lord,  this  day  may  I  lay  this  aside 
for  ever  !  Give  more  and  more  to  those  brethren 
whom  I  have  despised  or  thought  unworthy  of 
revival  work;  and  oh  that  I  could  praise  the 
Lord  for  His  goodness  in  pouring  out  His 
Spirit ! " 

So  this  devoted  man  was  jealous  of  ministers 
who  seemingly  were  more  successful  than  himself. 
Envy  was  in  his  heart ;  but  how  skilfully  and 
strangely  disguised !  Thus  all  the  bad  passions 
insinuate  themselves  into  our  life  unless  we  steadily 
detect  and  reject  them.  If  this  holy  man  after 
twenty  years  in  the  ministry  found  within  himself 
the  canker  of  envy  in  connexion  with  revivals, 
all  have  need  to  challenge  the  thoughts  of  their 
heart.  Anger  finds  its  way  to  our  breast  by  strange 
passages,  kindling  its  unhallowed  fire.  Covetous- 
ness  protests  that  it  exists  for  noble  ends,  and 
justifies  itself  by  most  ingenious  pretexts.  Indul- 
gence quotes  Scripture.  Pride  infects  the  soul 
through  beautiful  and  holy  things,  as  men  have 
been  poisoned  in  the  scent  of  a  rose.  Self-will 
possesses  us  under  the  name  of  zeal.  Vanity 
vaunts  itself  in  the  songs,  preaches  in  the  pulpits, 
and  feeds  on  the  sacraments  of  the  sanctuaiy. 
All  these  motions  and  outgoings  of  unrighteous- 
ness are  ever  striving  to  assert  themselves  in  the 
Christian  soul   and  life.     The    tenacity   of  sin  is 


24  Fined  Down 

marvellous,  so  is  Its  sophistry.  Hence  we  find  a 
true  saint  like  Bonar  living  in  the  midst  of  revivals, 
and  yet  after  years  of  consecration  passionately 
praying  to  be  delivered  from  envy  ! 

These  evil  thoughts  and  imaginations  of  the 
saintly  heart  may  appear  faint  and  inoffensive 
sins  when  compared  with  the  crimson  transgres- 
sions of  the  actual  world ;  but  the  true  disciple 
will  not  think  so,  neither  will  he  treat  them 
tenderly.  The  geologist  reminds  us  that  the  frog 
tribe,  those  harmless  inhabitants  of  our  ponds,  no 
bigger  than  a  wineglass,  are  the  representatives  of 
an  extinct  progenitor — the  labyrinthodon — that  had 
a  body  larger  than  a  hogshead,  with  capacious 
jaws  fringed  with  teeth.  The  diminutive  lizard  is 
the  living  representative  of  the  most  stupendous 
forms  of  the  animal  creation  that  ever  existed,  such 
as  the  iguanodon,  the  plesiosaurus,  the  ichthyo- 
saurus, the  megalosaurus,  the  awful  creatures  of 
the  Old  World.  And  however  much  thoughts  of 
evil  may  be  reduced,  softened,  and  etherealised, 
the  best  of  saints  recognise  in  such  thoughts  the 
direct  kindred  and  representatives  of  the  ferocious 
lusts  and  passions  which  war  against  the  soul  and 
threaten  it  with  eternal  ruin.  The  desires,  weak- 
nesses, and  sins  of  the  natural  life  are  greatly 
diminished  in  the  spiritual  life ;  they  have  alto- 
gether lost  their  alarming  aspect ;  their  capacious 


Fined  Down  25 

jaws  seem  no  longer  fringed  with  teeth ;  but  they 
are  none  the  less  of  the  breed  of  monsters,  and  we 
must  show  them  no  mercy.  May  He  cleanse  the 
thoughts  of  our  heart  by  the  inspiration  of  His 
holy  word  1 


THE  GREATEST  GIFT  OF  THE 
GREATEST  GIVER 

Thanks  be  unto  God  for  His  unspeakable  gift. — 2  Cor.  ix.  »5. 

The  apostle  has  been  speaking  to  the  Corinthians 
about  gifts,  when  all  at  once  his  heart  takes  fire 
and  he  bursts  into  this  thanksgiving.  He  glorifies 
God  for  the  whole  wonderful  and  inexpressibly 
blissful  work  of  redemption.  In  the  apostle's 
reckoning  Christ  is  the  crowning  gift  of  God  to 
the  race,  and  ecstatically  he  praises  God  for  the 
glorious  boon.  Far  beyond  the  good  and  perfect 
gifts  of  the  material  world  is  the  preciousness  of 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  The  philosopher  tells  us 
that  during  the  course  of  ages  all  things  have  been 
evolved  —  the  stars,  the  trees,  the  flowers,  the 
beasts  and  birds  ;  but  he  acknowledges  that  these 
are  not  the  highest  things :  human  intelligence, 
conscience,  love,  the  noble  sentiments,  ideals, 
hopes,  and  aspirations  of  the  race — these  are  the 
highest   products   of  history.     It   was   exactly   in 

26 


The  Greatest  Gift  of  the  Greatest  Giver    27 

these  spiritual  treasures  that  Christ  enriched  man- 
kind, and  enriched  us  in  an  infinite  degree. 

Christ  brought  truth  on  the  highest  questions  of 
allj  and  taught  us  that  truth  most  fully.  We  justly 
prize  the  great  masters  who  gave  us  the  knowledge 
of  nature — Copernicus,  Galileo,  Newton,  Darwin  ; 
but  more  momentous  still  are  the  instructions  of 
Moses,  Isaiah,  and  the  great  moral  masters  of  the 
ages.  Here  Christ  is  supreme.  With  surpassing 
authority  and  power  He  vindicated  and  disclosed 
the  spiritual  world  and  the  spirituality  of  man. 
He  made  it  impossible  henceforth  that  the  race 
should  lose  itself  in  materialism  and  sensuality. 
Christ  brought  peace.  The  Jewish  world  knew  the 
severity  of  law — it  beheld  God  in  the  teiTors  of 
Sinai ;  the  Roman  world  knew  the  majesty  and 
power  of  heaven — Jupiter  sat  on  Olympus  with  the 
thunderbolt  and  eagle :  but  Christ  spanned  Sinai 
with  the  rainbow,  and  replaced  the  bird  of  blood 
with  the  dove  of  peace.  He  proclaimed  the  in- 
finite love  of  God  to  a  world  of  sinners.  In  Christ 
we  have  in  its  fulness  the  precious  doctrine  of  grace, 
forgiveness,  and  peace.  Christ  brought  righteous- 
ness. He  secured  to  us  the  power  of  purity.  He 
inspires  the  strength  by  which  the  highest  good- 
ness is  attainable.  In  the  pagan  legend  Pi'ometheus 
kindled  the  human  soul.  Till  then  man  was  as 
heavy  clay,  scoffed  at  by  the  gods  ;  but  the  Titan 


28    The  Greatest  Gift  of  the  Greatest  Giver 

put  into  the  weak,  sluggish  creature  a  celestial 
spark,  and  henceforth  he  began  to  gaze  at  the 
stars,  to  reap  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  to  sail  the 
sea,  to  understand,  to  govern,  to  prophesy.  Christ 
kindles  within  us  a  diviner  spark,  and  makes 
possible  to  us  not  merely  science,  philosophy, 
commerce,  and  government,  but  a  loving  heart, 
a  gracious  temper,  truth  in  the  inward  parts,  a 
holy  life,  sacrifice,  and  service.  By  the  spark  of 
Pentecost,  out  of  the  dull,  coarse  clay  of  carnal 
man  He  created  immortal  apostles  and  saints. 
Cried  David  in  his  lamentation  over  Saul  and 
Jonathan,  "  Ye  daughters  of  Israel,  weep  over  Saul, 
who  clothed  you  in  scarlet,  with  other  delights,  who 
put  on  ornaments  of  gold  upon  your  apparel."  But 
Christ  has  done  infinitely  more  for  men  than  cloth- 
ing them  in  scarlet ;  He  has  clothed  them  in  white 
and  put  upon  them  ornaments  of  grace  rarer  than 
jewels  of  gold.  Christ  brought  us  hope.  He  came 
into  the  world  in  an  age  of  weaiiness  and  despair, 
and  He  made  everything  to  live  by  putting  into 
the  heart  of  the  race  a  sure  and  splendid  hope. 
He  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light.  He 
caused  men  to  forget  hardship  and  suffering  when 
He  opened  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to  all  believers. 
The  advent  of  Jesus  mightily  enriched  the  race 
in  incorruptible  treasure — in  knowledge,  kindness, 
puiity,  and  hope.     How  much  it  enriched  us  none 


The  Greatest  Gift  of  the  Greatest  Giver   29 

may  tell.  The  gift  is  "unspeakable."  It  is 
infinite ;  it  passeth  knowledge.  It  is  little  use 
attempting  to  describe  the  indescribable,  little  use 
attempting  to  utter  the  unutterable.  Nothing  is 
left  save  to  wonder ;  nothing  is  left  to  say  except 
Hallelujah ! 

Have  we  received  the  unspeakable  gift  ?  Men 
do  not  readily  believe  in  and  accept  the  highest 
gifts.  They  are  often  strangely  blind.  Did  they 
welcome  Gutenberg?  Did  they  strew  flowers  for 
Columbus?  Did  they  forthwith  crown  George 
Stephenson  ?  The  world  did  not  believe  in  these 
great  givers;  the  gifts  they  brought  were  too 
grand.  So,  when  the  "unspeakable  gift"  was 
bestowed,  men  stood  aloof  in  insensibility  or  scorn. 
Christ  came  to  His  own,  but  they  received  Him 
not.  And  to-day  thousands  see  no  beauty  in  Him 
that  they  should  desire  Him.  He  brought  truth, 
but  they  walk  in  darkness ;  He  brought  grace,  but 
they  cling  to  the  guilt  and  slavery  of  sin ;  He 
brought  white  garments,  but  they  remain  im- 
washed  and  unsanctified.  An  author  is  grieved 
when  he  discovers  in  our  library  an  uncut  volume 
of  his  presented  to  us  long  before.  Poor  author 
Yet  thousands  have  never,  figuratively  speaking, 
cut  the  leaves  of  the  New  Testament  and  read 
the  glorious  story  of  infinite  love.  The  message  of 
God's  redeeming  mercy  is   disregarded  by  multi- 


30   The  Greatest  Gift  of  the  Greatest  Giver 

tudes  of  nominal  Christians ;  and  the  Author  this 
time  may  well  grieve  that  the  gospel  written  in 
His  blood  is  ignored  as  a  vain  thing.  Every 
now  and  then  we  hear  of  a  superb  masterpiece 
being  discovered  in  a  house  where  for  years  it  ha3 
been  neglected  and  unknown.  The  picture  has 
been  the  butt  of  wit,  penknives  have  mutilated 
it,  it  has  been  relegated  to  the  attic.  But  in  how 
many  houses  is  that  gospel  which  is  the  master- 
piece of  God  ignored  and  despised  !  The  savage 
living  in  a  land  of  rich  landscapes,  of  gorgeous 
birds,  of  priceless  orchids,  of  i-eefs  of  gold,  of  mines 
of  diamonds,  of  stores  of  ivory,  and  yet  unconscious 
of  it  all,  possessing  only  a  hut  and  canoe,  is  a  famt 
imasre  of  thousands  in  this  Christian  land  who  are 
living  in  spiritual  poverty  and  hopelessness,  utterly 
unmindful  of  the  boundless  treasure  close  to  their  feet. 
Some  of  us  have  received  the  cro-vvning  gift  of 
God ;  but  we  have  not  fullij  received  it.  That  is 
a  striking  passage  in  Obadiah,  "  The  house  of 
Jacob  shaW  possess  their  possessions."  What  a  great 
deal  belongs  to  us  that  we  do  not  possess  !  It  lies 
beyond  us  untouched,  unseen,  uni-ealised ;  estates 
that  we  do  not  tread,  gold  that  we  do  not  reckon, 
dainties  that  we  do  not  taste.  We  have  a  great 
inheritance  in  Christ;  but  we  do  not  possess  our 
possessions.  The  infinite  light,  grace,  and  energy 
V'hich  are  really  ours  are  most  imperfectly  actual- 


The  Greatest  Gift  of  the  Greatest  Giver    3 1 

ised  in  our  experience.  This  poor  experience  is 
not  the  measure  of  the  gift  of  Christ.  We  possess 
the  dust  of  gold  rather  than  the  gold  itself,  a  few 
rose  leaves  rather  than  the  garden,  the  grape 
gleanings  i*ather  than  the  vintage.  As  we  cele- 
brate the  advent  of  our  Lord  let  us  afresh  seek 
to  possess  the  fulness  of  the  blessing  He  came  to 
bestow.  He  means  to  make  us  unutterably  peace- 
ful and  pure  ;  and  we  ought  not  to  be  satisfied  witli 
less.  Oh  for  an  experience  that  Avill  coi'respond 
with  the  "  unspeakable  gift "  !  We  are  ready 
enough  to  grasp  the  lesser  gifts  of  time  and  sense  ; 
let  not  these  abate  our  desire  for  the  superlative 
blessings  "  in  heavenly  places  in  Christ  Jesus." 

We  must  not  miss  the  great  practical  lesson  of 
the  text.  The  theme  of  the  chapter  is  that  of 
ministering  to  the  saints.  The  apostle  is  exhort- 
ing the  Corinthians  to  acts  of  generosity  and  sacri- 
fice, and  by  way  of  motive  he  skilfully  concludes 
his  appeal  with  the  text,  "Thanks  be  unto  God 
for  His  unspeakable  gift."  If  God  has  been  so 
magnificent  in  His  generosity  to  us,  what  ouglit  we 
to  deny  our  brother?  Our  thanks  for  Heaven's 
infinite  gift  must  be  expressed  in  our  practic.il 
sympathy  with  the  sons  and  daughters  of  mis- 
fortune and  suffering.  He  who  was  rich,  for  our 
sakes  became  poor,  and  we  must  drink  in  His  spirit 
and  follow  in  His  footpi-ints. 


VI 

TECHNICAL  TRAINING  IN  THE 
SPIRITUAL  LIFE 

And  I  said,  This  is  my  infirmity. — Ps.  Ixxvii.  lo. 

Whilst  through  the  changing  years  we  discover  in 
ourselves  many  failings,  most  of  us  are  humbled 
and  distressed  by  special  faults  which  tenaciously 
cling  to  us.  These  characteristic  defects  arise  from 
personal  temperament,  or  they  are  occasioned  by 
circumstances,  or  perhaps  they  are  the  con- 
sequences of  both.  But,  however  we  may  ex- 
plain their  origin,  they  are  very  real  and  familiar, 
and  go  a  long  way  toward  spoiling  life.  The 
question  is.  How  may  we  best  deal  with  these 
faults  ?  It  cannot  certainly  be  our  duty  to  ac- 
quiesce in  them  and  permit  them  to  weaken  and 
torment  us  from  youth  to  years.  Some  may 
suggest  that  the  true  way  of  dealing  with  any 
distinct  moral  infirmity  is  to  raise  the  general 
character  and  keep  it  full  of  vigorous  life ;  and 
we  at  once   agree   that    this   suggestion  contains 


Technical  Training  in  the  Spiritual  Life   33 

a  great  truth  never  to  be  forgotten.  Tlie  first 
requisite  in  dealing  with  any  particular  malady  is 
to  maintain  the  general  health ;  and  this  is  as 
true  of  the  spiritual  life  as  it  is  of  the  physical. 
But  whilst  we  do  our  utmost  to  send  enriched 
and  vitalised  blood  through  our  veins,  neutralising 
infection  and  decay  at  all  points  of  the  system,  we 
must  give  direct  and  marked  attention  to  special 
morbid  symptoms. 

A  scholar  discerning  in  himself  a  special  lack  of 
mental  aptitude  and  attainment  must  be  coached 
assiduously  in  this  very  thing  ;  a  patient  must  give 
concentrated  attention  to  the  complaint  which 
threatens  him,  or  in  a  complication  of  ills  to  the 
one  which  seems  the  most  menacing ;  and  the 
definite  religious  or  moral  fault  demands  definite 
treatment.  Our  besetting  sin  may  be  talkative- 
ness, irritability,  exaggeration,  harshness,  close- 
fistedness,  evil-speaking,  unfeelingness,  murmuring, 
or  indolence ;  or  it  may  be  one  more  nearly  allied 
with  the  appetites;  but  whatever  its  kind  and 
degi'ee,  it  ought  to  be  dealt  with  after  its  kind.  It 
is  a  most  desirable  thing  for  a  Christian  clearly  to 
define  his  besetting  fault — not  to  allow  it  to  lurk 
in  ambiguity  ;  and  then,  having  called  it  by  its 
real  name,  to  look  it  in  the  face  and  deal  with 
it  immediately  and  boldly.  There  is  much  to 
be  said  for  the  timorous  man  who  cured  himself 

SERIES  I.  3 


34    Technical  Training  in  the  Spiritual  Life 

of  cowardice   by   sleeping    between   a   couple   of 
skeletons. 

We  can  sometimes  effectually  restrain  personal 
faults  by  Tvisely  determinhig  our  c'i)r.u>iisfanccs.  As 
far  as  possible  we  ought  to  choose  our  neighbour- 
hood, our  company,  or  our  trade  with  a  view  to  the 
claims  of  the  religious  life  ;  and  conscious  of  special 
frailty,  we  should  not  lightly  permit  ourselves  in 
certain  localities,  associations,  and  pursuits.  Sick 
people  are  careful  to  choose  for  themselves  a  special 
climate  when  they  are  at  liberty  to  do  so.  If  they 
remain  in  England  a  residence  is  selected  on 
a  particular  soil,  and  they  are  exacting  as  to 
air  and  water.  Going  farther  afield  they  select 
Davos,  Madeira,  Hyeres,  the  Cape,  or  Australia, 
according  to  the  character  of  their  invalidism. 
There  is  a  climate  classification  sedulously  studied 
by  sick  people.  Ought  not  spiritual  men  to  study 
"climatology,"  escaping  as  far  as  possible  the 
circumstances  that  would  naturally  develop  their 
constitutional  failing,  surrounding  themselves  with 
the  influences  which  heal  and  help  ?  It  is  some- 
thing more  than  folly,  for  the  sake  of  taste,  pride, 
or  gain,  to  remain  voluntarily  in  positions  which 
are  spiritually  unfavourable.  If  anyone  objects  to 
this  selection  of  a  safe  environment  as  being  artifi- 
cial, it  is  enough  to  remember  that  wise  men  do  not 
argue  so  when  the  health  of  the  body  is  at  stake. 


Technical  Training  in  the  Spiritual  Life    35 

We  may  observe  this  technical  culture  hy 
ahstain'mg  from  certain  courses,  legitimate  in  them- 
selves, but  which  are  dangerous  to  us.  Some 
Christian  men  have  renounced  particular  studies 
because  they  fostered  tendencies  which  were 
better  repressed.  John  Wesley  rehnquished  the 
study  of  mathematics  on  this  ground.  Angelico 
would  not  paint  a  secular  subject.  Miss  Havergal 
would  not  sing  a  secular  song.  Many  Christians 
deny  themselves  in  matters  of  appetite,  being 
conscious  that  the  indulgences  which  prove 
perfectly  harmless  to  many  are  inexpedient  to 
them.  How  truly  wise  and  noble  for  men 
to  act  thus,  although  the  world,  not  understand- 
ing their  motive  and  liberty,  counts  them 
ascetic  and  narrow !  And  is  not  this  a  direction 
in  which  self-denial  brings  a  blessedness  far 
beyond  that  which  any  natural  enjoyment  could 
bestow .''  Here  it  may  be  said  most  appropri- 
ately, "  No  man  enjoys  more  truly  than  he  who 
renounces  the  gratification  of  his  desires."  There 
is  a  special  line  of  self-denial  Avhich  each  may 
follow  to  his  great  spiritual  advantage. 

We  may  discipline  ourselves  by  j^^^sisting  to  do 
right  things  which  are  difficult  and  uncongenial  to  us, 
even  when  we  do  them  with  the  least  willingness  and 
freedom.  A  German  physician  says  :  "  Precipitate 
men  should  accustom  themselves  to  write  and  walk 


36    Technical  Training  in  the  Spiritual  Life 

slowly.  Tlie  irresolute  should  endeavour  to  perform 
their  acts  with  rapidity.  The  gloomy,  romantic 
dreamer  should  be  trained  to  walk  with  head 
erect,  to  look  others  straight  in  the  face,  to  speak 
in  a  loud,  distinct  tone  of  voice.  It  may  seem 
incredible,  but  I  can  affirm  from  personal  ex- 
perience that  such  habits  exercise  a  great 
influence  on  both  mind  and  body."  That  is, 
do  the  right  thing,  assume  the  right  attitude, 
use  the  suitable  expression,  although  you  find 
yourself  painfully  lacking  in  the  mood  and  dis- 
position which  such  actions  usually  imply.  The 
reasoning  of  this  physician  is,  that  right  action 
has  a  tendency  to  induce  right  feeling.  And 
there  is  a  real  place  for  such  training  in  the 
spiritual  life.  "  Do  good,  even  when  your  heart 
is  not  free  to  it."  With  a  painful  lack  of  sym- 
pathy, still  do  the  right  act,  speak  the  proper 
thing,  form  the  correct  habit,  follow  the  true 
course ;  and  this  method  will  exercise  a  most  salutary 
influence,  awakening  and  strengthening  the  soul, 
and  at  last  filling  the  just  form  and  action  with 
the  reality  and  force  of  life.  In  some  Roman 
Catholic  institutions  novices  are  compelled  specially 
to  do  the  things  they  most  dislike.  It  would  be 
a  great  mistake  to  attempt  to  follow  any  such 
rule  in  ordinary  life ;  but  we  may  sometimes  with 
much  profit  coerce  ourselves  to  actions,  and  courses 


Technical  Training  in  the  Spiritual  Life   37 

of  action,  where  our  convictions  are  clear  that  such 
action  is  right,  whilst  our  feehng  is  strongly  averse 
to  obedience. 

We  ought  to  take  special  precaution  against  our 
charactetistic  failtJig.  The  man  who  sins  with  the 
tongue  ought  to  set  an  express  watch  over  the  door 
of  his  lips.  He  whose  peril  is  temper  must  keep 
his  mouth  as  with  a  bridle.  The  covetous  soul  must 
resolve  upon  and  maintain  systematic  beneficence, 
taking  strong  doses  of  enforced  liberality,  as  at 
stated  times  and  in  fixed  measure  we  take  other 
medicine.  The  man  given  to  appetite  must  put  a 
knife  to  his  throat.  He  who  suspects  a  snare  in 
the  cup  is  bound  to  fortify  himself  with  vows  and 
pledges.  The  slothful  must  set  themselves  large 
tasks,  and  rest  not  until  they  are  discharged.  We 
are  afraid  of  being  too  explicit  and  detailed  in  the 
discipline  of  our  life,  such  painstaking  seems  minute 
and  pettifogging ;  but  in  fact  we  cannot  be  too 
exact  and  thorough.  Precautions  which  seem 
pedantic  and  a  drill  which  seems  mechanical  may 
play  an  influential  part  in  the  formation  of  noble 
character. 

Yet,  wouldst  thon  rise  In  Christ's  self-masterlnj  school, 
Thy  very  heart  itself  must  beat  by  rule. 

Our  reading  ought  to  hear  upon  our  htdtvidual 
disposition  and   need.      A   distinct   portion  of  our 


38    Technical  Training  in  the  Spiritual  Life 

reading  may  most  profitably  bear  upon  the  special 
requirements  of  our  personal  life.  One  constitu- 
tionally desponding  or  passing  through  sorrowful 
experiences  ought  to  f.';ive  the  preference  to  hope- 
ful and  consolatory  authors ;  whereas  generally 
such  despairing  ones  confirm  their  melancholy 
by  pessimistic  literature.  The  man  of  God  con- 
sciously in  danger  of  worldly-minded ness  should 
keep  the  just  balance  between  this  world  and 
the  next  by  ever-recurring  studies  of  spiritual 
thoughts  and  things.  In  regard  to  special 
problems  of  character  and  life,  Christian  bio- 
graphy might  perhaps  render  us  larger  service  than 
it  does  if  it  were  written  with  more  discrimina- 
tion ;  yet  even  now  much  religious  portraiture  is 
available  that  will  help  us  most  seasonably  as 
we  struggle  with  our  sins  and  sorrows.  We  do 
not  wish  the  warts  to  be  pamted,  but  we  wish 
to  know  the  regimen  by  which  gracious  men  and 
women  got  rid  of  the  warts  ;  and  some  current 
biographies  give  welcome  light  on  this  mysteiy. 
These  regulative  views  touching  the  relation  of 
reading  to  experience  and  character  may  seem  to 
savour  of  artificiality ;  but  we  are  convinced  that 
much  may  be  done  by  a  judicious  selection  in 
our  reading  to  meet  the  unique  demands  of  the 
individual  soul. 

Our  devotions  ought  to  be  specific.     Self-examination 


Technical  Training  in  the  Spiritual  Life   39 

should  concern  itself  directly  with  our  personal 
and  private  weaknesses,  fears,  and  necessities. 
Prayer,  often  so  vague  and  purposeless,  ought  to 
know  what  to  ask  for,  and  how  to  open  its  lips  to 
purpose.  We  come  before  God  as  persons,  not  as 
indistinguishable  instances  of  a  species ;  and  our 
idiosyncrasies,  the  features  of  our  character,  our 
personal  temper  and  lot,  the  items  and  incidents  of 
our  career,  our  singular  and  exclusive  life,  all  ought 
to  be  fully  realised  at  His  feet.  The  specificalness 
of  our  being  and  experience  might,  as  a  rule,  be 
more  fully  followed  out  in  the  thoughts  and  suppli- 
cations of  devotional  hours. 

Specialism  in  personal  religious  culture  has  its 
dangers,  but  it  has  great  merit.  It  is  dangerous 
when  it  lingers  complacently  on  a  grace  which  is 
easy  and  which  costs  little,  exaggerating  it  and 
throwing  character  out  of  proportion ;  it  is  admir- 
able when  it  acutely  and  pertinaciously  cultivates 
a  grace  that  is  not  easy  and  that  much  needs 
development. 


VII 

UNSANCTIFIED  TRIAL 

She  obeyed  not  the  voice ;  she  received  not  correction ;  she 
trusted  not  in  the  Lord ;  she  drew  not  near  to  her  God. — 
Zepu.  iii.  2. 

We  read  the  other  day  of  an  awkward  diamond. 
The  diamond  usually  yields  to  the  efforts  of  the 
grinding  -  tool,  which  makes  several  thousand 
revolutions  in  a  minute.  However,  a  large 
jeweller  in  New  York  had  to  confess  himself 
beaten  some  time  ago  by  a  diamond  which  had 
been  submitted  for  a  hundred  days  to  a  grinding- 
wheel  making  twenty-eight  thousand  revolutions 
per  minute.  The  diamond  came  out  of  this  ordeal 
in  precisely  the  same  condition  as  before  it  was 
touched.  The  total  distance  repi-esented  by  the 
revolutions  of  the  grinding- wheel  was  equivalent 
to  three  times  the  circumference  of  the  globe,  and 
in  this  instance  the  ordinary  weight  of  two  pounds 
was  replaced  by  one  of  forty  pounds.  The  only 
effect  of  the  combat  was  to  put  the  lapidary  on  the 
sick^ist  from  exhaustion.     After  tliis  experiment 

40 


Unsanctified  Trial  41 

the  jeweller  gave  up  the  task  as  hopeless,  and 
sent  the  diamond  as  a  curiosity  to  the  Scientific 
Institute  of  New  York. 

Reading  of  this  awkward  gem  made  us  think  of 
the  refractoriness  of  men  under  the  purifying  and 
shaping  hand  of  God.  How  strangely  and  wickedly 
do  we  sometimes  resist  His  wise  and  patient  treat- 
ment !  By  the  ordinances  of  nature,  by  the  events 
of  life,  by  the  teachings  and  strivings  of  His  Spirit, 
would  He  shape  us,  polish  us,  and  make  us  things 
of  beauty  fit  for  splendid  places ;  but  we  are 
blind,  stubborn,  indifferent,  revolting,  and  infinite 
ingenuities  of  wisdom  and  love  are  lost  upon  us. 
The  New  York  jeweller  persevered  until  the  total 
distance  represented  by  the  revolutions  of  the 
grinding  -  wheel  was  equal  to  three  times  the 
circumference  of  the  globe;  and  God  makes  this 
earth  to  spin  for  fifty  years,  for  seventy  years,  and 
yet  men  end  in  the  gross  condition  in  which  they 
began !  The  awkward  diamond  was  a  curiosity, 
but  we  are  forced  to  think  that  refractory  souls 
are  sadly  common.  In  the  sick  lapidary  we  see 
a  faint  image  of  the  sorrowing  God  when  He  is 
compelled  to  drop  into  the  waste  the  soul  designed 
as  a  star  of  hght  for  His  own  diadem. 


vin 

DRY-ROT  IN  CHARACTER 

Will  eat  as  doth  a  canker. — 2  Tim.  ii,  17. 

We  do  our  utmost  to  protect  great  buildings  fiorn 
fire  and  tempest,  and  yet  all  the  time  those  build- 
ings are  liable  to  another  peril  certainly  not  less 
severe — the  subtle  decay  of  the  very  framework 
of  the  structure  itself.  The  tissue  of  the  vv^ood 
silently  and  mysteriously  deteriorates^  and  a  cala- 
mity as  dire  as  a  conflagration  is  precipitated.  The 
vi^hole  of  the  magnificent  roofing  of  the  Church  of 
St.  Paul  in  Rome  had  to  be  taken  out  at  enormous 
expense  because  of  the  dry-rot.  Scientific  men 
by  microscopic  and  chemical  methods  have  investi- 
gated the  causes  of  this  premature  decay,  and  after 
patient  search  they  have  discovered  not  only  the 
fungi  which  destroy  the  wood  tissue,  but  also  the 
spore  that  acts  as  the  seed  of  the  fungus.  So  this 
obscure  malign  vegetation  goes  on  in  the  heart 
of  the  wood,  destroying  the  strength  and  glory  of 
minster  and  palace. 

Character   is    liable    to    a   similar   danger.      All 

42 


Dry-Rot  in  Character  43 

evils  do  not  come  from  the  outside ;  all  peril  does 
not  arise  from  fierce  temptations  and  fieiy  trials. 
In  our  religious  experience,  as  in  our  homes,  not 
only  do  thieves  break  through  and  steal,  but  moth 
and  rust  destroy.  Some  of  the  worst  possibilities 
of  loss,  weakness,  and  ruin  emerge  from  within ; 
the  destroying  agents  work  obscurely  and  stealthily, 
and  are  almost  unsuspected  until  they  have 
wrought  fatal  mischief.  The  fibre  of  will,  con- 
science, and  feeling  is  mysteriously  eaten  away, 
and  we  find  that  we  no  longer  possess  the  faith,  the 
sensibility,  and  the  resolution  of  other  days.  No 
swift  and  violent  assault  of  world,  flesh,  or  devil 
has  torn  or  stained  us,  but  it  has  been  like  as  when 
a  moth  fretteth  a  garment.  We  go  on  with  the 
routine  of  life,  we  give  place  to  dulness,  deadness, 
and  indifference ;  and  all  the  while  obscure  germs 
of  weakness  and  disease  develop  within  and  con- 
sume our  moral  fibre.  Then  one  day  a  sudden 
temptation  occurs,  a  severe  emergency  presents 
itself,  and  we  fall  into  condemnation  which  sur- 
prises us  and  startles  many. 

The  scientists  who  have  discovered  the  spore 
that  acts  as  the  seed  of  fungus  expect  soon  to 
provide  a  means  of  destroying  this  seed  before  it 
produces  growth.  And  we  Christian  people  need 
to  watch  against  the  beginnings  of  interior  paralysis 
and   decay,  to  keep   down    the    malignant   germs 


44  Dry-Rot  in  Character 

which  are  ready  to  spring  and  ferment  and 
infect.  Atmosphere  is  a  preventive  of  dry-roi,  and 
it  is  an  essential  thing  that  the  breath  of  heaven 
should  have  free  course  through  oiu'  whole  nature. 
''The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,"  and  the 
Spirit  of  God  ever  moves  in  living  cuiTents 
through  the  heart  and  life  of  those  who  solicit 
Him  and  who  give  Him  free  course.  The  dry- 
rot  does  not  affect  what  is  open  to  the  breeze ; 
and  if  we  constantly  seek  the  fresh  influences 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  they  shall  destroy  the  subtle 
bacilli  which  exhaust  the  nerves  of  the  soul,  the 
deadly  growths  which  mar  its  integrity.  We 
must  permit  no  stagnation,  but  ever  seek  fresh 
thoughts,  comforts,  inspirations,  and  perfections. 
Newness  of  life,  a  life  always  new,  is  the  sovereign 
specific.  Movement  is  salvation.  Sunshine  is  ajine 
antidote  to  dry-rot.  More  and  more  are  practical 
men  persuaded  of  the  efficacy  of  sunlight.  What 
is  the  moral  of  this  fact  but  that  we  should 
live  in  the  sunshine  of  heaven  ?  The  sense  of 
God's  favour  must  be  an  abiding  consciousness 
with  us;  we  must  realise  the  comfort  of  His 
Spirit ;  the  joy  of  the  Lord  must  be  our  strength. 
Sadness  and  dreariness,  coldness  and  deadness, 
apathy  and  indifference,  are  prolific  of  the  germs 
of  decay,  of  the  microbes  of  disease.  Punty  keeps 
out  dry-rot.     The  builder  must  watch  against  un- 


Dry-Rot  In  Character  45 

healthy  conditions,  and  saturate  joists  and  sleepers 
with  the  necessary  chemical  solutions.  So  must 
we  keep  ourselves  from  whatever  would  infect, 
and  evermore  steep  our  moral  faculties  and  life 
in  the  antiseptic  influences  of  truth  and  grace. 
We  must  saturate  our  understanding  with  the 
blessed  truths  of  the  New  Testament,  our  imagina- 
tion with  Christ's  beauty,  our  affections  with  God's 
love.  The  moth,  the  microbe,  the  spore,  cannot 
live  in  a  soul  that  is  daily  seasoned  in  the  strong 
and  fragi-ant  virtue  of  heavenly  fellowship  and 
blessedness. 


IX 

THE  SECRET  OF  SPEED 

I  will  run   the  way  of  Thy  commandments,  when   Fhon 
shalt  enlarge  my  heart. — Ps.  cxix.  32, 

This  was  the  language  of  one  who  did  not  run ; 
and  many  still  lag  behind.  It  might  have  been 
predicted  that  the  faults  of  Christians  would  be 
chiefly  faults  of  excess — that  they  would  strive 
after  an  ideal  excellence  until  they  became  im- 
practicable in  actual  life ;  that  they  would  become 
so  enamoured  of  the  sanctuary  as  to  neglect  their 
worldly  interests ;  that  they  would  work  so  passion- 
ately as  to  impair  their  health  ;  that  holding  money 
so  lightly,  they  would  become  victims  of  a  romantic 
charity.  But  it  is  hardly  thus.  Our  faults  are 
notoriously  on  the  side  of  defect,  and  not  of  excess 
— on  the  side  of  lukewarmness,  not  of  enthusiasm. 
We  are  far  more  in  danger  of  standing  still  than  of 
running  ourselves  out  of  breath.  Most  of  us  have 
reason  to  be  ash.'iined  of  the  defects  of  our  obedi- 
ence, the  meanness  of  our  saci'ifice,  the  meagreness 
of  our  work,  the  formalism  of  our  worship. 

46 


The  Secret  of  Speed  47 

The  enlargement  ot  the  heart  is  the  secret  of 
speed. 

The  enlargement  of  the  heart  means  an  increase 
of  knotvlcdge.  "  And  God  gave  Solomon  wisdom 
and  imderstanding  exceeding  much^  and  largeness 
of  heart,  even  as  the  sand  that  is  on  the  seashore." 
This  is  an  answer  to  the  king's  prayer  for  the  influx 
of  new  mental  light  and  vigour. 

It  means  an  increase  of  faith.  The  text  is  a 
prayer  for  larger  apprehensions  of  God's  greatness, 
goodness,  and  truth. 

It  means  an  increase  of  joy.  "  Thou  hast  en- 
larged me  when  I  was  in  distress." 

It  means  an  increase  of  love.  "  O  ye  Corinthians, 
our  mouth  is  open  unto  you,  our  heart  is  enlarged," 
expanded  with  affection.  The  enlargement  of  the 
heai't  means  an  inci'ease  of  light,  insight,  love,  trust, 
hope,  gladness,  God  touching  our  spirit  anew  and 
awakening  it  to  a  higher  and  fuller  life  in  Himself. 

Let  us  note  how  this  enlargement  of  the  heart 
conduces  to  a  more  prompt  and  acceptable 
obedience. 

1.  On  a  journey  we  may  find  ourselves  hindered 
hy  the  nature  of  the  path  on  which  we  nmlk.  The  path 
of  perfect  obedience  is  high  and  difficult.  Says 
the  psalmist,  "  I  have  seen  an  end  of  all  perfec- 
tion :  but  Thy  commandment  is  exceeding  broad." 
That  is,  I  have  seen  the  limitations  of  all  that  men 


48  The  Secret  of  Speed 

call  beautiful  and  perfect  and  great :  but  Thy  com- 
mandment is  exceedingly  lofty,  immeasurable,  sub- 
lime, and  the  longer  I  live  the  more  it  grows  upon 
me.  Yes ;  the  path  of  perfect  obedience  is  high 
and  difficult  to  feet  like  ours.  What,  then,  is  to  be 
done  ?  Is  the  commandment  to  be  brought  down 
to  our  imperfection  and  frailty  ?  Is  the  height  and 
grandeur  of  duty  to  be  tem])ered  to  our  weakness  ? 
This  we  foolishly  desire.  We  trust  that  a  way 
may  be  found  to  accommodate  the  law  to  our 
impotence,  and  that  we  may  be  excused  the  fulness 
of  its  exaction.  But  this  is  not  the  psalmist's 
point  of  view  in  our  text.  He  does  not  ask 
that  the  standard  shall  be  lowered,  the  precept 
modified,  the  law  relaxed ;  he  prays  that  his  heart 
shall  be  enlarged.  The  commandment  must  not  be 
brought  down  to  the  man ;  the  man  must  be  brought 
up  to  the  commandment.  If  we  are  renewed 
within,  however  exact  and  glorious  the  law  may  be, 
we  shall  promptly  and  joyfully  accomplish  it.  Let 
us  beware  of  lowering  great  ideals.  Whenever  we 
feel  the  loftiness  of  the  commandment,  whenever 
we  catch  a  glimpse  of  its  white  top  in  the  heavens, 
let  us  plead  for  more  light,  faith,  and  strength, 
and  the  impracticable  shall  become  the  possible — 
nay,  the  delightful.  We  must  not  faint  because 
of  the  weakness  of  our  nature ;  we  must  not  deny 
the  possibilities  of  life ;  we  must  not  attempt  to 


The  Secret  of  Speed  49 

lower  the  pathway  of  duty.  Let  us  rather  seek 
the  sohition  of  the  difficulty  in  the  strengthening 
of  tlie  soul ;  let  us  crave  more  of  the  cherub's 
illumination,  more  of  the  seraph's  fire,  and  we 
shall  find  the  path  of  perfection  what  the  angels 
find  it — a  summer  path  of  flowers 

2.  A  traveller  may  be  checked  by  obstructions  on 
the  road.  So  the  Christian  pilgrim  finds  a  variety 
of  trials  and  troubles  to  be  stumbling-blocks  in 
the  heavenly  pathway,  and  he  is  tempted  to 
think  that  the  removal  of  these  barriers  is  all 
that  is  required.  How  rapid  our  pace  if  these 
difficulties  and  provocations  were  no  more !  And 
with  this  flattering  unction  we  comfort  our  soul  as 
we  crawl  along  in  the  spiritual  life.  If  Father  Time 
should  one  fine  day  sweep  these  obstructions  out 
of  our  path,  a  few  swift  steps  will  bring  us  to  the 
golden  goal.  Our  text,  however,  is  framed  on  another 
philosophy.  The  psalmist  had  trials  and  difficulties, 
personal,  domestic,  and  political ;  but  he  does  not 
plead  for  the  removal  of  these  :  he  simply  pleads 
for  a  larger  heart.  He  does  not  pray.  Take  the 
difficulties  out  of  the  way,  and  I  will  run  ;  but. 
Enlarge  my  heart,  and  I  will  run,  no  matter  what 
difficulties  may  be  in  the  way.  It  is  a  great 
mistake  to  think  that  the  most  desirable  thing  is 
a  clearer,  smoother  path  ;  what  we  most  need  is  a 
braver,  warmer  heart     The  world  cannot  be  soft- 

SERIES  I.  4 


50  The  Secret  of  Speed 

ened  down  to  our  cowardice  and  weakness ;  our 
strength  must  be  multiplied  to  vanquish  its  ban-iers 
and  besetments.  If  it  please  God  to  enlarge  our 
soul  with  fresh  affection  and  heroism,  we  shall  run 
through  a  troop  and  leap  over  a  wall. 

3.  The  pilgrim  is  hindered  by  hiirde7is  he  may  have 
to  cany.  So  the  apostle  teaches  that  many  things 
may  become  burdensome  to  us.  "  Let  us  lay  aside 
every  weight."  Every  weight  that  we  can  lay 
aside  we  must  lay  aside ;  but  many  innocent  and 
proper  things  become  weights  to  us,  and  these  we 
need  not  lay  aside.  Riches,  honours,  pleasures, 
friendships — these  get  too  much  hold  upon  us  and 
spoil  our  speed.  We  cannot  rmi ;  we  can  hardly 
walk.  What  is  to  be  done  to  expedite  our 
progress .''  Are  these  embarrassing  things  to 
be  renounced,  to  be  laid  aside  ?  It  may  be  well 
from  time  to  time  to  chasten  earthly  desire ;  but 
the  loftiest  teaching  of  Christianity  does  not 
promise  spii-itual  progress  through  the  reduction 
of  material  interests  and  relations.  And  this  was 
the  view  of  the  psalmist.  He  does  not  say.  Take 
away  my  gold,  my  scarlet,  my  diadem,  and  I  shall 
run ;  but.  Enlarge  my  heart,  and  I  shall  run, 
despite  gold  and  greatness  and  gloiy.  For  the 
acceleration  of  our  speed  we  do  not  need  less  of 
this  world's  goods  and  honoiu'S,  but  more  inward 
grace  and  force.     Let  my  heart  be  enlarged,  and 


The  Secret  of  Speed  5 1 

honour  shall  impede  me  no  more  than  a  purple 
girdle  round  my  loins,  pleasure  delay  me  no 
more  than  it  does  a  pilgrim  to  pick  up  a  wayside 
flower,  wealth  shall  no  more  prove  a  hindrance 
than  are  shining  spangles  on  an  athlete's  dress. 
Let  us  pray  that  God  may  purge  our  vision,  deepen 
our  sympathy  with  the  unseen,  exalt  our  imagi- 
nation and  hope,  and  the  world  shall  no  longer 
burden  or  fetter.  More  than  anything  else,  it 
is  a  question  of  larger  inward  blessing. 

4.  The  racer  is  hindered  by  superfluous  garments. 
"  The  sin  which  doth  so  easily  beset "  is  the  chief 
entanglement  and  arrestment.  The  unmastered 
evil  of  our  hearts  fetters  us  most;  like  a  gar- 
ment it  encircles  us,  wraps  us  round.  There  is 
only  one  remedy  for  this — fresh  and  fuller  spiritual 
power.  A  new  heart,  and  ever  new,  disencumbers 
of  the  besetting  sin  and  gives  us  the  secret  of  speed. 
A  bigger  heart  is  the  main  thing  always,  and  it 
would  be  infinitely  better  if  we  oftener  looked 
within  for  the  solution  of  our  difficulties.  We 
need  not  ask  for  a  lower  path,  a  smoother  path, 
or  a  shorter  path  to  heaven,  but  for  a  soul  fuller 
of  spiritual  enthusiasm  ;  then  shall  the  rough  places 
be  smooth,  the  crooked  paths  straight. 

We  see  here  the  true  way  of  going  to  heaven.  We 
are  to  run.  It  is  not  wise,  right,  or  safe  to  live 
coldly  and  loosely.      Old  Donne   says       Let   me 


52  The  Secret  of  Speed 

go  upon  crutches,  so  I  go  to  heaven."  But  there 
are  two  objections  to  going  to  heaven  that  way. 
First,  no  man  chooses  a  pair  of  crutches  when  he 
is  offered  a  pair  of  wings.  No  one,  surely,  ought 
to  go  to  heaven  slowly,  painfully,  when  he  can  go 
triumphantly.  And  the  second  objection  is,  that 
those  who  go  upon  crutches  hardly  get  to  heaven. 
"  Lest  that  which  is  lame  be  turned  out  of  the  way." 
A  halting  Christian  is  more  hkely  to  be  turned  out 
of  the  way  than  to  continue  unto  the  end ;  for  any 
trivial  thing  in  the  path  sends  him  sprawling  on  all 
fours.  Away  with  such  tardiness  and  precarious- 
ness  !  We  are  to  march  as  conquerors  ;  we  are  to 
return  with  joy  upon  our  heads ;  we  are  to  mount 
with  eagles — oiu*  spirit  regal,  our  mood  heroic,  our 
step  unfaltering. 

We  see  here  the  secret  of  power  and  progress.  Our 
progress  is  not  regulated  by  the  state  of  things  about 
us,  but  by  the  fact  and  intensity  of  our  spiritual  life. 
Great  faith,  high  resolve,  and  glowing  love  go 
over  Jordan  diyshod.  A  cold,  feeble  heart  finds 
the  shallowest  rivulet  as  terrible  as  the  swellings 
of  Jordan. 

One  of  the  greatest  mistakes  of  our  spiritual  life 
is  the  habit  of  exaggerating  the  without,  and  pay- 
ing too  Uttle  attention  to  the  within.  We  are 
ingenious  in  finding  reasons  why  we  should  be 
excused  from  keeping  the  highest  and  purest  law  j 


The  Secret  of  Speed  53 

we  urge  our  constitutional  weakness  and  our  des- 
potic circumstances  in  extenuation  of  our  failures, 
— when  we  might  by  the  renewal  of  our  inward 
strength  turn  the  statutes  to  music.  We  are 
staggered  by  the  difBculties  of  life,  and  from  one 
year  to  another  excuse  our  stagnation  on  the  ground 
of  these  discouragements, — when  a  fresh  idea  in  our 
brain,  a  fresh  spark  of  love  in  our  heart,  a  fresh 
inbreathing  of  the  hallowing  and  delivering  grace, 
would  make  all  such  difficulties  insignificant  and 
absurd.  We  find  the  blessings  of  hfe  a  snare,  the 
very  gifts  of  God  burden  and  jeopardise  us,  the 
sweet  and  precious  things  of  providential  love  stay 
our  steps  as  the  golden  apples  broke  the  speed  of 
the  fabled  runner  of  old, — when  a  clearer,  loftier 
soul,  a  larger  trust,  a  more  loyal  affection,  a  more 
glowing  zeal  and  consecration,  would  reaUse  in  all 
natural  blessings  fresh  incentive  and  strength 
to  nui  the  glorious  race.  Entangled  by  evil 
tempers  and  passions,  we  vainly  seek  to  extricate 
ourselves  by  the  discipline  of  policy, — when  the 
interior  power  and  purity  which  prayer  secures 
would  triumph  with  a  shout  over  passion  and 
temptation.  The  world  within  us  is  the  main 
matter.  All  difficulties  dwindle  as  the  soul  expands. 
Bitter  mysteries  are  solved  by  a  simpler  trust. 
Barren  branches  blossom  and  bend  as  the  roots  of 
our  life  are  enriched.     Grace  abounding,  a  double 


54  The  Secret  of  Speed 

portion  of  the  Spirit,  the  love  of  God  shed  abroad 
in  the  heart,  reawakening  hunger  and  thirst  after 
righteousness,  the  second  blessing  leading  to  the 
third  and  so  on  to  infinity — here  is  the  consolation 
and  hope  of  the  saints.  Strengthened  with  strength 
in  our  soul,  we  shall  trip  no  more,  crawl  no  more, 
stand  still  no  more,  but  run  in  the  path  of  life,  and 

Even  in  running  think  ourselves  too  slow. 

If  our  heart  has  become  faint  and  cold,  we  know 
what  to  do.  When  the  fire  went  out  on  the  altar 
of  the  Greeks,  it  was  relighted  by  the  beams  of  the 
sun.  Let  us  bring  our  heart  into  fresh  contact 
with  the  purging  Fire,  the  quickening  Flame,  and 
difficulty  and  failure  shall  be  things  of  the  past. 


SELF-REVELATION 

He  is  like  unto  a  man  beholding  his  natural  face  in  a  mirror 
— Jas.  i.  23  (r-v,). 

The  temperance  papers  have  just  recorded 
the  story  of  a  woman  who  resolved  that  her 
husband  should  know  his  appearance  when  he  was 
drunk.  She  knew  well  enough,  and  needed  not 
that  any  should  tell  her ;  her  children  also  knew 
by  sad  experience :  but  the  man  himself  had  a 
very  imperfect  idea  of  the  state  of  the  case.  So 
once,  when  he  came  home  inebriated  and  fell 
into  a  maudlin  slumber,  she  sent  for  the  photo- 
grapher and  had  her  husband  photographed 
as  he  sat  in  his  chair.  When  the  photograph 
was  laid  beside  the  husband's  plate  at  break- 
fast next  morning,  it  was  a  revelation,  the 
sobered  man  experienced  a  decidedly  new 
sensation.  There  was  no  need  of  explanation ; 
explanation  was  unnecessary.  There  was  no  possi- 
bility of  contradiction,  and  no  room  for  argu- 
ment. It  was  said  that  the  convicted  man  had 
the   sense   and    courage    to   reform.       It   will   be 

65 


56  Self-Revelation 

difficult,  however,  to  extend  the  use  of  the 
camera  far  in  this  service  of  morality.  It  might 
show  how  we  looked  in  a  fit  of  passion,  in  the 
hour  of  strutting  vanity,  or  in  the  act  of  putting 
into  our  pocket  money  that  did  not  belong  to 
us.  No  doubt  most  men  have  reason  to  be 
thankful  that  a  snap-shot  was  not  taken  of  them 
in  certain  unguarded  hours.  But,  as  we  say,  the 
service  of  the  camera  will  be  limited  in  this 
direction,  few  sins  being  so  susceptible  of  repre- 
sentation as  drunkenness.  Photography,  it  is  true, 
is  now  used  in  the  service  of  physiology  in  a  re- 
markable way.  By  the  application  of  instantaneous 
photogi-aphy  to  the  study  of  the  heart's  action 
medical  science  has  been  much  assisted.  By  means 
of  an  instantaneous  drop-shutter,  giving  an  ex- 
posure of  one-sixtieth  of  a  second.  Dr.  Thompson 
of  New  York  has  succeeded  in  obtaining  images  of 
the  heart  itself  in  successive  phases.  By  taking  a 
series  of  such  photographs,  the  whole  cycle  of  the 
heart's  action  can  be  studied  at  leisure  in  a  series 
of  pictures  reproducing  with  absolute  faithfulness 
the  aspect  of  the  heart  before,  during,  and  after 
systole.  But  wonderful  as  are  the  achievements  of 
the  camera  in  recording  the  more  visible  and  the 
more  obscure  phenomena  of  physical  life,  it  goes 
only  a  little  way  in  reproducing  the  movements  and 
features  of  the  moral  life.     That  life  hes  apart ;  it 


Self-Revelation  57 

is  delicate,  intangible,  elusive ;  and  its  mysterious 
action  can  be  pictured  only  very  imperfectly  by 
sensitive  plate,  lens,  and  the  light  of  the  sun. 

But  in  other  ways  we  are  furnished  with  our 
moral  photograph.  Public  men  occasionally  find 
their  true  self  depicted  in  the  journals  with 
startling  frankness  and  accuracy.  A  wife  will 
sometimes  give  her  husband  a  verbal  photograph 
of  his  spirit  and  disposition,  every  bit  as  true  and 
striking  as  the  objectionable  portrait  laid  on  the 
breakfast  table  by  the  faithful  spouse  who  revealed 
Philip  drunk  to  Philip  sober.  There  are  occasions 
when  the  kodak  is  used  by  the  other  party  and 
the  unflattering  image  is  presented  at  the  other 
end  of  the  table.  Children  are  apt  to  strike  off 
extraordinarily  sharp  and  afflictive  pictiu*es  of  their 
seniors.  Our  neighbours  present  us  with  portraits 
of  ourselves  that  we  should  not  care  to  see  hung 
in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery.  And  not  rarely 
does  the  faithful  preacher  surprise  his  hearers 
by  revealing  themselves  to  themselves  as  Nathan 
con\dcted  David.  But,  after  all,  it  is  in  the 
action  of  the  Spirit  of  God  upon  the  individual 
conscience  that  self-revelation  is  known  in  its  most 
perfect  and  vivid  fashion.  This  Searcher  of  the 
thoughts  of  the  heart,  on  occasion,  forces  the 
hidden  man  of  the  heart  to  declare  himself,  and 
we  are  convicted   and   confounded  as  the  sinner 


58  Self-Revelation 

in  our  anecdote  was  by  the  spectacle  of  his 
drunken  self.  Very  wonderful  are  some  of  the 
feats  of  photography.  The  delicate  film  on  the 
plate  being  more  sensitive  than  the  retina  of 
the  eye,  stars  so  distant  and  faint  as  to  be 
invisible  to  the  observer  through  the  most  power- 
ful telescope  are  made  known  by  the  camera.  It 
gives  a  perfect  picture  of  the  falluig  snowflake. 
It  registers  changes  which  our  senses  are  not 
fine  enough  to  perceive.  It  analyses  the  move- 
ments of  a  swallow's  wing.  By  the  spark  of  a 
Leyden  jar,  which  is  brighter  than  the  light  of 
the  sun,  a  bullet  dischaiged  fi*om  a  gun  has  been 
photographed,  and  the  bullet  travelling  faster 
than  soimd  appears  in  the  negative  as  if  at  rest. 
But  all  this  is  only  a  dim  and  distant  suggestion 
of  the  swift  and  delicate  action  of  the  Spirit  of 
God  in  the  human  soul,  recording  and  revealing 
the  thought  afar  off,  the  fugitive  fancy,  the 
obscurely  working  feeling,  the  unconfessed  intent, 
and  all  the  subtle  secrets  which  belong  to  our 
deepest  life.  The  Spirit  of  God  knows  us,  and 
as  we  can  bear  such  knowledge  He  acquaints  us 
with  the  facts  of  our  own  heart.  In  memorable 
moments  we  see  ourselves  as  God  sees  us. 

Self-revelation  is  always  a  serious  thing.  It  is 
humiliating  to  contemplate  in  cold  blood  and  dry 
light  deeds  done  in  the  pui'ple  light  of  imagination 


Self-Revelation  59 

and  in  the  hot  blood  of  passion.  To  be  freed  from 
illusions  about  ourselves  and  to  realise  our  weak- 
ness and  shame  is  a  trying  process.  It  is  satis- 
factory to  learn  that  the  sinner  in  our  story  took 
kindly  the  presentation  of  the  picture  of  his  Avorse 
self,  and  reformed :  it  might  easily  have  been 
otherwise ;  it  might  have  proved  the  death  of  his 
self-respect  and  pi'ecipitated  his  doom.  So  the 
sight  of  our  erring  selves  may  mean  a  lapse 
into  the  cynical,  the  morbid,  the  despairing. 
Self-revelation  is  ever  a  serious  thing,  and  with 
perceptions  of  fitness  and  seasonableness  utterly 
unknown  to  us  does  the  Spirit  of  God  seize  the 
critical  hour.  We  are  henceforth  all  the  better 
or  all  the  worse  ;  self-revelation  never  leaves  us 
as  we  were.  Doctors  refrain  from  telling  us 
the  whole  truth  about  ourselves,  and  no  doubt 
their  reticence  is  fully  justified.  Often  it  would 
be  injurious  to  the  patient  to  know  the  full  fact 
and  peril  of  his  sickness ;  it  would  delay  his 
recovery,  it  might  altogether  prevent  that 
recovery.  It  is  a  delicate  matter  to  inform  the 
patient  of  his  state,  and  therefore  the  physician 
imparts  or  suppresses  his  knowledge  as  may  be 
best  for  the  sufferer.  He  must  with  fine  dis- 
crimination tell  the  truth  as  it  is  expedient 
and  in  the  moments  when  it  can  best  be  borne. 
How  true  is  this   with   respect   to   the  sovereign 


6o  Self-Revelation 

Physician !  It  is  impossible  that  we  should  ever 
know  all  the  wisdom  and  gentleness  of  the 
great  Healer.  A  premature  revelation  of  our- 
selves would  plunge  us  into  the  depths  of  despair, 
and  so  He  tells  us  terrible  facts  and  glorious 
facts  as  the  soul  can  bear. 

When  the  moment  for  self-revelation  comes,  let 
us  not  resent  it.  How  foolish  it  would  have  been 
for  the  tippler  in  our  stoiy  to  have  denounced 
the  photographer !  It  is  infinitely  better  to  accept 
the  presentment  with  all  its  humiliations.  No  one 
is  more  interested  in  the  truth  about  myself  than 
I  myself  am.  Let  us  never  excuse,  flatter,  pity, 
pamper,  or  forgive  ourselves.  The  longer  we  live 
the  more  sure  we  are  that  the  men  who  reach  the 
highest  character  and  influence  are  precisely  those 
who  are  unflinchingly  faithful  with  themselves,  who 
never  offer  apologies  for  themselves  to  themselves, 
but  who  are  always  on  the  side  of  the  ugly 
portrait.  Thank  God  for  the  knowledge  of  the 
most  unpalatable  truth !  A  true  vision  of  our 
sorry  selves  may  be,  ought  to  be,  the  beginning 
of  new  and  better  days.  But  if  self-revelation  is 
to  work  this  benign  consequence,  we  must  look 
steadily  at  another  likeness  than  the  sad  one.  Oh, 
sweet  it  is  in  the  hours  of  shame  and  reproach  to 
look  up  and  see  the  strong  and  beautiful  One  who 
came  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost ! 


XI 

STRAINED  PIETY 

fie  not  righteous  overmuch. — Eocles.  vii.  iC 

With  commentators  this  is  a  much  controverted 
text ;  it  may,  however,  fairly  be  taken  as  a  warning 
against  strained  piety.  Not  that  a  man  can  ever 
be  too  righteous,  but  he  may  strive  after  a  right- 
eousness that  is  false  and  injurious.  The  other 
sentence  in  this  passage  may  help  us  to  under- 
stand what  the  sacred  writer  meant  by  overmuch 
righteousness :  "  Neither  make  thyself  overwise." 
Some  people  are  known  as  being  "  too  clever,  too 
clever  by  half."  We  all  know  what  this  means ; 
we  know  such  people.  Men  cannot  be  too  wise, 
too  gifted,  too  skilful ;  but  they  can  be  too  clever, 
too  clever  by  half.  They  can  reveal  Intellect  in 
ways  which  are  not  exactly  legitimate,  and  which 
do  not  commend  themselves  to  sensible  and  honest 
people.  So  goodness  sometimes  finds  a  similarly 
false,  irritating,  and  dangerous  expression,  or  it 
has  a  superfluity  that  makes  it  objectionable  and 
injurious. 


62  Strained  Piety 

We  may  think  that  this  excess  in  piety,  ex- 
cess in  any  dii'ection^  is  rare,  and  hardly  calls 
for  express  consideration.  But  this  is  not  so. 
It  is  a  common  thing  for  religion  to  run  wild, 
to  be  pushed  on  wrong  lines ;  for  goodness  to 
become  strained,  arbitrary,  inharmonious,  and  ex- 
aggerated. Let  us  give  a  few  illustrations  of  this 
strained  piety. 

1.  It  sometimes  reveals  itself  in  doctrinal  fastidi- 
ousness. Paul  vvrites  to  Timothy,  "  Hold  fast  the 
form  of  sound  words,  which  thou  hast  heard  of  me, 
in  faith  and  love  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus."  Hold 
fast  the  form^  the  pattern.  The  religion  of  Christ 
finds  expression  in  the  definite,  the  concrete,  the 
intelligible.  But  some  of  us  are  not  content  until 
we  have  etherealised  the  great  articles  of  our  faith, 
made  our  creed  vague,  intangible,  and  generally 
such  as  it  is  not  possible  for  a  man  to  utter.  De 
Quincey  said  of  Coleridge,  touching  the  poet's 
endless  refinements  and  transcendentalisms,  "  He 
wants  better  bread  than  can  be  made  with  wheat." 
This  is  rather  a  common  failure  in  our  day,  and 
especially  with  men  of  a  certain  temper.  They 
refine  and  sublimate  their  creed  until  they  let 
slip  the  substantial  saving  verity.  The  doctrine 
of  the  incarnation  is  attenuated  until  Christ  be- 
comes a  mere  phantom.  To  esca{)e  all  suspicion  of 
mechanical  inspiration,  the  doctrine  of  inspiration 


Strained  Piety  6^ 

is  refined  until  the  mighty  comfort  and  strength- 
ening of  the  simple  honest  words  of  prophet 
and  apodtle  are  lost.  And  so  with  the  master 
doctrine  of  atonement,  they  translate  it  into  meta- 
physics which  make  the  cross  of  Christ  of  none 
Cifect.  In  a  sense  we  are  obliged  to  rationalise  our 
creed,  penetrate  its  real  meaning,  apprehend  its 
reasonableness  and  consistency ;  but  let  us  beware 
lest  we  hunger  because  we  want  better  bread  than 
can  be  made  with  wheat.  The  religion  of  Christ 
is  a  religion  of  histoiy,  fact,  form,  letter,  and  we 
must  take  care  how  we  sky  it.  The  chymist, 
clever  man  that  he  is,  can  volatilise  the  diamond ; 
but  volatilised  diamonds  have  lost  their  reality, 
beauty,  and  worth.  A  precious  creed  can  be 
rarefied  in  a  similar  fashion  and  with  a  similar 
result.  We  may  stram  after  pure,  metaphysical, 
absolute  truth  until  we  destroy  ourselves.  It  is  a 
grand  thing  to  leave  our  wonderful  abstractions 
and  come  down  to  the  Eible,  to  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
to  the  Ten  Commandments,  to  the  Beatitudes ;  a 
grand  thing  to  leave  sublime  idealisations,  and 
walk  and  talk  with  the  hi.stoi-ical  Jesus :  "  for  we 
are  members  of  His  body,  and  of  His  flesh,  and  of 
His  bones."  The  most  mystical  of  the  apostles 
kept  fast  hold  of  the  definite,  the  corporeal,  the 
historical :  "  That  which  was  from  the  beginning, 
which  we  have  heard,  which  we  have  seen  with 


64  Strained  Piety 

our  eyes,  which  we  have  looked  upon,  and  our 
hands  have  handled,  of  the  Word  of  Hfe."  Come 
down  from  the  thin  air,  recite  the  Apostles'  Creed, 
sing  the  Te  Deum.  Touch  the  rock.  Be  not  wise 
overmuch. 

2.  Strained  piety  reveals  itself  in  morbid  intrO' 
spectiveness.  There  is  of  course  such  a  thing  as  a 
just  introspection,  that  a  man  should  look  closely 
into  his  own  heart  and  life.  Self-examination  is 
a  solemn  duty;  yet  it  is  liable  to  be  misconceived 
and  pressed  to  false  issues.  Men  sometimes  get 
morbid  about  the  state  of  their  health.  For  ex- 
ample, they  are  always  weighing  themselves.  The 
weighing-machine  is  now  an  institution ;  it  figures 
at  eveiy  railway  station,  its  owners  find  it  a  lucrative 
property.  A  multitude  of  nervous  people  spend 
much  time  and  money  in  ascertaining  their  weight. 
They  know  what  they  weighed  last  year,  last 
month,  last  week.  Their  feelings  go  up  or  down 
with  their  weight ;  they  are  the  sport  of  their 
gravity.  We  all  feel  that  such  solicitude  is  a  mis- 
take ;  it  is  the  sign  of  a  morbid,  miserable  condition. 
Sensible  people  have  something  better  to  do,  and 
do  it.  But  good  people  are,  not  rarely,  victims  of 
a  similar  morbidity :  they  are  jealous  about  their 
religious  state,  curious  about  obscure  symptoms, 
always  with  beating  heart  putting  themselves  into 
tlie  balances  of  the  sanctuary. 


Strained  Piety  65 

This  habit  may  prove  most  hurtful.  Instead  of 
•uch  excessive  solicitude  being  conducive  to  safety 
it  is  altogether  full  of  peril.  It  makes  men  morally 
•weak  and  craven,  destroying  their  peace  and  rob- 
bing their  life  of  brightness.  How  often  we  feel 
this  in  reading  the  biographies  of  true  and  noble 
saints  1  They  brooded  so  closely  and  persistently 
over  their  personal  defects  and  failures,  over  their 
errors,  infirmities,  and  fears,  that  they  ate  out 
the  strength  of  their  heart,  and  more  or  less 
spoiled  the  freedom,  grace,  and  glory  of  life. 
Beware  of  pushing  a  quiet  self-supei'vision  into 
unhealthy  brooding.  Why  shouldst  thou  destroy 
thyself .''  We  need  to  watch  our  health,  but  our 
finger  must  not  always  be  on  our  pulse ;  "  for  God 
hath  not  given  us  the  spirit  of  fear,  but  of  power, 
and  of  love,  and  of  a  sound  mind." 

3.  Strained  piety  reveals  itself  in  an  exacting 
conscientioitsness.  On  the  supreme  importance  of 
conscientiousness  we  are  all  agreed,  yet  it  is  easy 
to  push  this  conscientiousness  into  scrupulousness. 
Many  Christian  people  are  fertile  of  ingenious,  gra- 
tuitous, embarrassing,  exasperating  distinctions  and 
exclusions.  It  was  said  of  Grote  that  "  he  suffered 
from  a  pampered  conscience."  Many  good  people 
do.  It  is  a  legal  maxim  that  "the  law  concemeth 
not  itself  with  trifles,"  and  the  court  is  specially 
impatient  of  "frivolous  and  vexatious"    charges; 

SERIES  I  5 


66  Strained  Piety 

but  some  of  us  are  evermore  arraigning  onrselves 
at  the  bar  of  conscience  about  arbitrary,  frivolous, 
and  vexatious  things.     It  is  a  great  mistake. 

It  may  be  said.  There  is  no  special  necessity  to 
rebuke  extreme  nicety  of  conscience,  little  need 
in  this  callous  world  for  this ;  a  conscience  much 
exercised  about  trifles  is  at  least  awake,  sensitive, 
and  faithful.  But  really  solicitude  about  trifles 
is  the  sign  of  a  defective  conscience.  There  are 
various  kinds  of  the  bad  conscience — a  seared,  a 
defiled,  a  blinded,  a  drugged  conscience ;  but  a 
pampered  conscience  is  also  a  bad  conscience. 
Christ  shows  that  the  conscience  of  the  Pharisee, 
exercised  by  infinite  detail  and  casuistry,  was 
essentially  lacking  in  sensibility  and  faithfulness. 
Mommsen  in  a  striking  passage  points  out  that  it 
was  precisely  the  same  with  the  conscience  of  the 
Roman  nation  in  the  era  of  its  decadence.  He 
says :  "  They  pushed  the  natural  rule — that  no 
religious  service  can  be  acceptable  to  the  gods 
unless  it  is  free  from  flaw — to  such  an  extent  in 
practice,  that  a  single  sacrifice  had  to  be  repeated 
thirty  times  in  succession  on  account  of  mistakes 
again  and  again  committed ;  and  that  the  games, 
which  also  formed  a  part  of  divine  service,  were 
regarded  as  undone  if  the  presiding  magistrate  had 
committed  any  slip  in  word  or  deed,  or  if  the  music 
even  had  paused  at  a  wrong  time,  and  so  had  to  b« 


Strained  Piety  67 

begun  afresh,  frequently  for  several,  even  as  many 
as  seven,  times  in  succession.  This  exaggeration 
of  conscientiousness  was  already  a  symptom  of  its 
incipient  torpor;  and  the  reaction  against  it — in- 
difference and  unbelief — appeared  without  delay." 

A  true  and  noble  conscience  is  tender,  quick, 
incisive,  imperative  ;  but  it  is  also  large,  majestic, 
generous,  as  is  the  eternal  law  of  which  it  is  the 
organ.  We  cannot  pretend  to  go  through  life 
with  a  conscience  akin  to  those  delicate  balances 
which  are  sufficiently  sensitive  to  weigh  a  pencil 
mark  ;  if  we  attempt  such  painful  minuteness,  we 
are  likely  to  be  incapable  of  doing  justice  to  the 
weightier  matters  of  the  law.  Carefulness  about 
the  purity  of  what  we  eat  is  desirable ;  but  if  we 
take  a  microscope  to  the  table  we  shall  probably 
starve.  Whilst  truly  spiritual  and  faithful,  strong 
and  sincere,  there  will  be  a  certain  greatness  and 
magnanimity  in  our  conscience,  and  without  any 
fretting,  miserable  fastidiousness  we  shall  be  faithful 
at  once  in  things  both  great  and  small. 

4.  Strained  piety  reveals  itself  in  the  inordinate 
culture  of  special  virtues.  For  some  reason  or  other 
a  man  conceives  an  affection  for  a  particular  excel- 
lence, it  engrosses  his  attention,  it  shines  in  his 
eye  with  unique  splendour.  But  this  extreme  love 
for  any  special  virtue  easily  becomes  a  snare.  We 
hear  much  of  the  evils  of  specialism  in  science,  in 


68  Strained  Piety 

medicine,  In  artisanship ;  and  specialism  in  cha- 
racter has  also  its  extreme  inconveniences  and 
dangers. 

A  literary  botanist  says,  "Most  of  the  faults 
of  flowers  are  only  exaggerations  of  some  right 
tendency."  May  not  the  same  be  said  about 
the  faults  of  Christians.''  They  have  strained 
after  a  particular  virtue  until  it  has  imparted  to 
their  character  disproportion  and  disagreeableness. 
There  is  the  man  of  conscientiousness.  Righteous- 
ness is  the  cardinal  virtue  in  his  eyes  ;  and  indeed 
his  eyes  are  so  full  of  the  great  virtue  that  he  can 
see  little  else.  In  the  end  he  pushes  justice  to  the 
point  of  injustice.  He  is  the  righteous  man  for 
whom  nobody  would  die,  but  many  would  not  care 
if  he  did.  There  is  the  man  of  kindness.  In  his 
eyes  amiability  is  the  premier  grace,  and  he  becomes 
guilty  of  imprudent  generosity,  doubtful  com- 
promises, lax  rule.  There  is  the  man  of  temper- 
ance. He  dwells  on  the  merit  of  abstinence  until 
the  whole  decalogue  seems  to  be  exhausted  in  a 
cup  of  cold  water.  There  is  the  honest  man. 
Outspokenness  is  the  sum  of  the  law  to  this  brother. 
He  is  likely  to  become  a  fearful  character,  never 
being  satisfied  until  he  has  proved  his  faithfulness 
by  his  discoui'teousness  and  insolence.  There  is 
the  man  of  purity ;  not  improbably  known  at  last 
as  a  prude,  sometimes   as  something  worse.      In 


Strained  Piety  69 

agiicuUure  fi'uits  and  flowers  may  be  over-culti- 
vated ;  they  may  be  enlarged  and  doubled  until 
the  strawberry  loses  its  flavour  and  the  rose  its 
perfume.  And  virtues  may  be  over-cultivated; 
the  most  precious,  beautiful,  and  delightful  aspects 
of  character  becoming  obnoxious  through  strain 
and  exaggeration. 

We  need  to  take  a  wider  view,  to  cultivate  justly 
and  impartially  every  grace  of  the  Chi'istian  cha- 
racter. We  want  comprehensiveness,  fulness, 
balance,  harmony.  Aiming  at  the  larger  ideal  we 
shall  be  saved  from  extravagance,  angularity,  and 
littleness.  "  Then  shall  I  not  be  ashamed  when 
I  have  respect  to  all  Thy  commandments." 

5.  It  reveals  itself  in  striiung  after  impracticable 
standards  of  character.  We  cannot  have  too  lofty 
an  ideal  of  character ;  but  we  may  easily  have 
pretentious,  spurious  ideals  on  which  the  soul 
wastes  its  precious  energies.  It  is  a  fine  character- 
istic of  Christianity  that  it  is  so  sane,  reasonable, 
practical,  and  humane ;  it  never  forgets  our  nature 
and  situation,  our  relations  and  duty.  High,  pure, 
spiritual,  heavenly,  and  divine,  it  is  yet  available 
for  men,  women,  and  childx-en  on  the  earth,  here 
and  now.  But  many  think  to  transcend  the  good- 
ness of  Christianity ;  they  are  dreaming  of  loftier 
types  of  character,  of  sublimer  principles,  of  more 
illustrious  lives  than  Christianity  knows. 


70  Strained  Piety 

Positivism  gives  an  illustration  of  this.  An  old 
objection  to  Christianity  was  that  it  enjoined  a 
morality  so  superfine  as  to  be  practically  inacces- 
sible. Notv  the  Positive  philosophy  declares  that 
the  great  prmciple  of  Christian  ethics  is  low 
and  selfish.  Christianity  says,  "Thou  shalt  love 
thy  neighbour  as  thyself"  ;  but  the  new  morality 
says,  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  and  ignore 
thyself."  Christianity  is  discredited  by  a  supposed 
nobler  ideal.  So  they  aim  to  eclipse  us  in  that 
grace  of  charity  which  has  been  our  prize  rose  for 
two  thousand  years ;  so  they  add  another  hue  to 
the  rainbow,  even  the  rainbow  that  is  round  about 
the  throne. 

Monasticism  affords  an  illustration  of  this  strain- 
ing. Asceticism,  to  which  some  scholars  thmk  that 
reference  is  made  in  our  text,  was  a  distmct 
attempt  to  reach  an  unearthly  perfection,  a  per- 
fection certainly  away  from  anything  contemplated 
in  the  New  Testament. 

Protestantism  has  also  its  false  strivings.  Some 
evangelical  Christians  have  very  arbitrary  and 
bizarre  notions  of  holiness.  They  deny  themselves 
in  things  that  God  has  not  denied  them,  and  pique 
themselves  on  virtues  of  which  the  New  Testament 
knows  nothing.  They  are  too  bright  and  good. 
The  superior  people  of  the  churches,  they  look 
superciliously  upon  ordinary  disciples. 


Strained  Piety  71 

But  this  straining  after  ideals  other  than  those 
of  Christianity  is  utterly  false  and  deeply  hurtful. 
Speaking  of  the  monks  who  fell  into  frightful 
immoralities,  Charles  Kingsley  says,  "  Aiming  to 
be  more  than  men,  they  became  less  than  men." 
It  is  ever  the  case.  Fanciful  ideals  exhaust  us, 
distort  us,  destroy  us. 

What  sweet,  bright,  fragrant  flowers  God  has 
made  to  spring  on  the  earth  —  cowslips  in  the 
meadow,  daffodils  by  the  pools,  primroses  in  the 
woods,  myrtles,  wallflowers,  lavenders,  pinks,  and 
roses  to  bloom  in  the  garden,  an  infinite  wealth 
of  colour,  sweetness,  and  virtue !  But  in  these 
days  we  are  tired  of  God's  flowers,  and  with 
a  strange  wantonness  we  dye  them  for  our- 
selves :  the  world  is  running  after  queer  blossoms 
that  our  fathers  knew  not — yellow  asters,  green 
carnations,  blue  dahlias,  red  lilacs.  And  in  the 
moral  world  we  are  guilty  of  similar  freaks. 
"Whatsoever  things  are  true,  whatsoever  things 
are  honest,  whatsoever  things  are  just,  whatsoever 
things  are  pure,  whatsoever  things  are  lovely, 
whatsoever  things  are  of  good  report ;  if  there  be 
any  virtue,  and  if  there  be  any  praise."  Ah ! 
these  blooms  we  know ;  these  are  the  old  sweet 
flowers  which  grow  in  the  paradise  of  God :  but 
these  fancy  graces  of  positivism,  these  forced 
virtues  of  asceticism,  these  affectations   and  arti- 


72  Strained  Piety 

ficialities  of  holiness,  are  the  green  carnations,  the 
blue  roses,  the  discoloured  violets  and  jonquils  of 
the  religious  world. 

"  Learn  of  Me,"  says  the  Master.  Yes ;  let  us 
go  back  to  Him  who  was  without  excess  or  defect. 
Nothing  is  more  wonderful  about  our  Lord  than 
His  perfect  naturalness,  His  absolute  balance.  His 
reality,  reasonableness,  artlessness,  completeness. 
With  all  His  mighty  enthusiasm  He  never  over- 
steps the  modesty  of  nature.  With  all  the  sublime 
patterns  that  He  shows  on  the  mount,  how  easy 
and  delightful  He  is  with  the  children  of  men ! 
With  all  His  v'^ion  of  an  infinite  and  eternal  per- 
fection His  life  was  full  of  ease  and  grace.  Weak 
men  create  the  bizarre  ;  genius  is  free  from  strain 
and  eccentricity.  The  artistic  masters  create 
miracles  of  beauty  within  academic  law.  This 
was  eminently  true  of  our  Lord.  Nothing  excessive, 
nothing  wanting  ;  nothing  artificial,  nothing  unsym- 
meti'ical ;  no  underdoing,  no  overdoing.  The  good- 
ness of  Christ  was  like  the  sunshine,  the  breeze, 
the  dawn,  like  the  sweet  summer  rain  braided  with 
the  rainbow.  Let  us  live  much  with  Him,  and  He 
shall  make  us  sharers  of  His  spotless  beauty. 


XII 
WEARINESS 

Let  at  not  be  weary  in  well-doing :  for  In  ine  season  we 
shall  reap,  if  we  faint  not. — Gal.  vi.  9. 

The  absence  of  enthusiasm  is  a  serious  defect.  We 
must  not  only  be  good  and  do  good,  but  strong 
force  and  purpose  ought  also  to  enter  into  all  our 
being  and  action. 

Men  sometimes  lose  heart  in  spiritual  things 
because  they  find  the  path  of  life  difficult.  Some 
portions  of  the  road  are  steep,  some  are  dark,  some 
are  rough,  some  are  slippery,  and  the  heart  of 
the  people  is  discouraged  because  of  the  way. 
We  loiter  in  flowery  paths  and  faint  in  rugged 
ones. 

This  falling  away  may  result  from  the  extreme 
difficulty  of  realising  moral  perfection.  When  a 
critic  complained  in  the  presence  of  Turner  that 
a  picture  was  not  perfect,  the  great  artist  broke 
in,  "  Perfection  !  you  don't  know  how  hard  it  is." 
The  spiritual  man  knows  how  hard  moral  perfec- 
tion is,  and  is  ready  to  let  his  great  ideals  slip 

73 


74  Weariness 

as  if  they  were  unattainable  dreams.  We  are 
exhausted  by  the  very  splendour  of  our  aim. 

Sometimes  we  are  depressed  because  the  way 
seems  long.  I  remember  seeing  an  epitaph  for  an 
old  man :  *'  Being  weary  with  the  journey."  But 
long  before  we  are  exactly  old  we  are  weary  of 
this  journey.  Our  hopes  are  disappointed,  one  try- 
ing thing  succeeds  another,  and  to  a  disenchanted 
pilgrim  the  way  appears  tedious. 

Always  this  enervation  is  the  result  of  neglect. 
Some  plants  grow  without  either  earth  or  water ; 
simply  suspend  them  in  a  room,  and  they  find  all 
they  need  in  the  atmosphere.  But  grace  is  not 
such  a  plant,  for  unless  constantly  refreshed  it  loses 
its  vigour  and  bloom.  Here  many  err.  The  world 
is  ever  pressing  upon  us ;  the  flesh  drinks  the 
life  of  the  spirit ;  manifold  conflicts  exhaust  us ; 
and  neglecting  to  renew  their  strength,  the  strong 
men  faint  and  even  the  young  men  utterly  fall 
We  are  unbraced  and  unnerved  because  we  fail  to 
wait  upon  Him  who  faints  not. 

The  symptoms  of  this  perilous  languor  are  easily 
detected. 

In  weariness  we  seek  to  reduce  our  exertions  to  the 
loivest  possible  point.  Weaiy  men  soon  find  out  how 
little  they  may  do,  the  least  they  may  do.  Re- 
trenching our  liberalities,  we  are  feeling  charity 
irksome;  finding  easy  excuses  for  the  neglect  of 


Weariness  75 

prayer,  we  are  getting  weary  in  devotion ;  resign- 
ing one  office  after  another  with  ingenious  pleas, 
we  are  becoming  weary  in  service.  Ever  striving  to 
bring  our  Christian  life  down  to  the  lowest  standard 
is  proof  positive  of  decaying  conviction  and  en- 
thusiasm. The  whole-hearted  man  asks,  "  How 
much  can  I  be,  give,  do  ?  "  The  weary  man  asks, 
"  How  Uttle  ?  " 

In  weariness  men  magnify  trifles.  Dr.  Living- 
stone tells  that  the  Africans  are  sometimes  afflicted 
by  a  singular  disorder  which  causes  them  in  passing 
over  a  straw  to  lift  up  their  feet  as  if  they  were 
passing  over  the  trunk  of  a  tree.  Weariness  is  a 
similar  malady  ;  it  makes  great  efforts  to  overcome 
trifling  and  imaginaiy  obstructions.  The  grass- 
hopper is  a  burden.  Weariness  is  seinously  offended 
by  the  veriest  ti'ifles,  by  a  word  or  look,  or  by  the 
lack  of  a  word  or  look,  which  really  means  nothing. 
Weariness  permits  the  least  thing  to  put  aside 
family  prayer.  Weariness  does  not  go  to  God's 
house  because  it  was  there  last  week.  Weariness 
is  extraordinarily  particular  about  the  weather. 
Weaiiness  finds  with  increasing  frequency  that  it 
does  not  approve  the  preacher.  Weariness  sees  a 
lion  in  every  path,  a  mountain  in  every  molehill, 
a  spectre  in  every  straw. 

In  weaiiness  we  Jtnd  no  pleasure  in  anything  that 
ne  do.     The  strong  exult  in  action,  but  everything 


76  Weariness 

is  joyless  to  the  feeble.  The  things  that  of  yore 
were  full  of  delight  are  oppressive  and  insipid. 
The  tree  of  life  di'oops  into  a  willow.  The  sanctu- 
ary has  no  charm.  The  Sabbath  is  irksome.  The 
Scriptures  have  so  little  interest  that  one  turns  the 
pages  backward  and  forward,  hardly  knowing  what 
to  read.     Prayer  is  a  ceremony. 

Great  is  the  peril  of  debility  and  relaxation. 
In  our  moods  of  slackness  and  coldness  any 
little  thing  may  prove  fatal.  What  a  note  of 
mingled  alarm  and  tenderness  we  discern  in  the 
apostle's  words  to  the  halting  Hebrews  ! — "  Make 
straight  paths  for  your  feet,  lest  that  which  i3 
lame  be  turned  out  of  the  way  " ;  or.  Lest  it  be 
quite  put  out  of  joint.  Lame,  flagging  travellers 
are  easily  turned  out  of  the  way,  a  slight  misfor- 
time  or  difficulty  may  break  them  down  altogether. 
They  want  handling  gingerly,  like  glass.  They 
must  be  coaxed  like  sick  children.  The  next 
thing  to  being  weary  of  God  is  to  desert  Him. 
The  next  thing  to  following  Christ  at  a  distance  is 
to  deny  Him.  The  next  thing  to  swooning  on  the 
precipice  is  to  sink  into  the  abyss.  The  extinction 
of  enthusiasm  is  the  point  of  death. 

Ah !  we  must  not  faint.  In  due  season  we  shall 
reap,  if  we  faint  not.  The  way  may  be  difficult, 
but  it  is  passable  to  stout  hearts.  Perfection  may 
be  hard,  yet  is  it  gloriously  attainable.     The  way 


Weariness  77 

never  seems  long  when  we  view  it  from  Pisgah. 
And  although  our  spiritual  life  needs  daily  renewal, 
inexhaustible  are  the  fountains  of  refreshment 
Away  with  impatience,  fretfulness,  despair !  He 
who  regulates  the  shining  clockwork  of  the  stars 
shall  give  us  the  reward  in  due  season. 

Think  of  the  harvest  field  :  the  broad,  bright 
acres  of  the  heavenly  universe. 

Think  of  the  harvest  sheaves :  glorified  bodies, 
spirits  made  perfect,  companionship  of  angels, 
fellowship  of  transfigured  saints,  the  eternal  smile 
of  God.  What  piled  up  sheaves  of  light  and  beauty 
shall  we  gather  to  our  jewelled  breast ! 

Think  of  the  harvest  joy :  the  sigh  of  toil 
changed  into  the  reaper's  song;  the  sweat  of  the 
brow  forgotten  in  the  wealth  of  the  hundredfold ; 
no  more  hunger  or  thirst,  but  the  wine  of  divine 
pleasure  ever  at  our  lips. 

Think  of  the  harvest  day:  "thy  sun  shall  no 
more  go  down  ;  neither  shall  thy  moon  withdraw 
itself :  for  the  Lord  shall  be  thine  everlasting  light, 
and  the  days  of  thy  mourning  shall  be  ended." 


xin 

THE  INGENUITIES  OF  LOVE 

Being  crafty,  I  caught  you  with  guile. — 2  Cor.  xii.  16, 

Henry  W.  Crosskey  says :  "  I  have  heard  of  a  young 
fellow  who  was  in  the  habit  of  betting ;  he  felt  that 
he  was  on  the  way  to  destruction,  but  the  gambling 
passion  was  too  strong  within  him  to  be  resisted. 
He  told  his  Sunday-school  teacher  that  he  had 
given  up  many  bad  habits,  but  that  from  this  one 
he  did  not  feel  able  to  escape.  '  Were  you  always 
with  me/  he  said,  '  I  might  manage  it.'  *  I 
cannot  always  be  with  you,'  replied  the  teacher; 
'  but  when  and  where  do  you  gamble } '  '  Oh, 
every  day  at  the  dinner-hour;  I  go  down  to  the 
pubUc^- house  at  one  o'clock,'  was  the  answer. 
*  Well,  I  wUl  tell  you  what  I  will  do,'  said  the 
teacher :  '  every  day  as  the  clock  strikes  one  I  will 
pray  for  you.'  The  young  fellow  was  conquered. 
He  came  after  a  day  or  two,  and  said,  *  I  shall  bet 
no  more.  Yesterday  I  tried  to  go  to  the  public- 
house,  and  I  could  not.  I  thought  what  a  shame 
it  was  that  you  should  be  praying  for  me,  and  that 


The  Ingenuities  of  Love  79 

I  should  be  gambling  at  the  public-house,  and  I 
could  not  do  it.'  " 

Great  is  the  ingenuity  of  love.  It  really  seemed 
as  if  there  was  no  way  in  which  the  teacher  could 
meet  this  case;  but  gi-eat  are  the  resoui-ces  of  a 
loving  and  sympathetic  heart.  It  is  very  hard 
indeed  to  help  some  people ;  yet  love  finds  a  way 
where  coldness  and  selfishness  give  up  the  thing  as 
inaccessible  and  impossible.  Then  how  wonderful 
sympathy  is  1  It  touched  that  lad's  heart ;  and  if 
we  can  only  once  succeed  in  making  tempted  and 
fallen  souls  believe  that  we  really  care  for  them 
and  would  do  anything  for  their  good,  we  acquire 
over  them  a  marvellous  influence.  The  hyjjnotism 
of  sympathy  is  wonderful  indeed ;  it  places  weak 
men  and  women  under  a  benign  and  saving  spell. 
The  power  of  prayer  is  also  illustrated  in  this  story  ; 
in  a  peculiar  way  intercession  availed.  Sympathy 
and  supplication  influence  men  in  an  extraordinary 
degree.  We  are  all  rich  in  saving  influences  if  we 
will  only  use  them. 


XIV 

THE  VALUE  OF  FEELING  IN 
CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE 

Lord,  I  am  ready  to  go  with  Thee,  both  into  prison,  and 
to  death. — Luke  xxii.  33. 

Feeling,  as  distinguished  from  ideas,  convictions, 
and  conscientiousness,  plays  a  large  part  in  Christian 
experience.  Vague  as  the  emotions  may  often  be, 
they  are  still  real  and  deep,  and  they  are  factors 
of  prime  moment  in  the  religious  life.  Every 
Christian  knows  how  continuously  and  suddenly 
feeling  varies,  and  every  rehgious  student  is 
familiar  with  this  phenomenon.  Feeling  plays 
through  a  wide  range  of  variations,  from  hypo- 
chondriasis to  ecstasy ;  and  its  oscillations  and 
contrasts  are  sometimes  most  perplexing.  We  pass 
from  assurance  to  doubtfulness,  from  confidence  to 
fear,  from  joyousness  to  sadness,  from  the  stars  to 
the  abyss,  with  lightning-like  swiftness.  It  is  more 
than  interesting  to  inquu'e  into  the  causes  of  these 
fluctuations  of  feeling,  to  estimate  their  value,  and 

to  understand  our  duty  in  relation  to  them. 
80 


The  Value  of  Feeling  8 1 

Circumstances  often  sway  and  colour  our  feelings. 
When  a  large  slice  of  good  luck  befalls  a  Christian 
man,  he  is  apt  to  take  a  rosy  view  of  things,  and 
to  be  ready  with  a  radiant  testimony ;  whilst  a 
change  fi'om  affluence  and  ease  to  a  greater  or  less 
degree  of  conflict  is  likely  to  mirror  itself  in  the 
sadness  of  the  soul.  Our  feelings  by  no  means 
necessarily  respond  to  the  everlasting  flux  of  human 
affairs ;  but  no  one  will  deny  that  circumstances 
have  a  real  general  determining  action  on  the 
imagination  and  sensibilities.  To  say  that  at- 
mospheric variations  in  any  degree  condition 
religious  experience  seems  absurd,  but,  more  than 
we  think.  Christian  experience  follows  the  weather 
chart.  Dr.  T.  D.  Crothers  has  recently  written  in 
a  science  journal  an  article  on  the  psychology  of 
the  weather,  in  which  he  says  :  "  Very  few  persons 
recognise  the  sources  of  error  that  come  directly 
from  atmospheric  conditions  of  experiments,  and 
observers,  and  others.  In  my  own  case  I  have 
been  amazed  at  the  faulty  deductions  and  mis- 
conceptions which  were  made  in  damp,  foggy 
weather,  or  on  days  in  which  the  air  was  charged 
with  electricity  and  thunderstorms  were  impending. 
What  seemed  clear  to  me  at  these  times  appeared 
later  to  be  filled  with  error.  An  actuary  in  a  large 
uisurance  company  is  obliged  to  stop  work  at  such 
times,  finding  that  he  makes  so  many  mistakes,  of 
SERIES  I.  6 


82  The  Value  of  Feeling 

which  he  is  only  conscious  later,  that  his  work  is 
useless.  In  a  large  factory  from  10  to  20  per 
cent,  less  work  is  brought  out  on  damp  days  and 
days  of  threatening  storm.  The  superintendent, 
in  receiving  orders  to  be  delivered  at  a  certain 
time,  takes  this  factor  into  calculation.  There  is 
a  theory  among  many  persons  in  the  fire  insurance 
business  that  in  states  of  depressmg  atmosphere 
greater  carelessness  exists  and  more  fires  follow. 
Engineers  of  railway  locomotives  have  some 
curious  theories  of  trouble,  accidents,  and  increased 
dangers  in  such  periods,  attributing  them  to  the 
machinery."  Powerful  forces  coming  from  the 
weather  influence  brain  workers  and  others ;  and 
although  Christian  feeling  often  sets  weather  and 
climate  at  defiance,  we  may  be  sure  that  many  of 
its  startling  changes  have  no  deeper  cause  than 
skyey  influences.  A  sincere  brother  will  often 
confess  how  sadly  he  is  "  out  of  tune."  It  is  a  well 
chosen  phrase.  On  certain  days  he  is  probably 
not  himself,  just  as  the  strings  of  the  violin  are 
deranged  by  atmospheric  changes.  It  would  be 
wise  sometimes  to  refer  a  depressed  brother  to  the 
barometer  rather  than  to  the  Bible. 

The  changes  of  our  physical  life  project  themselves 
into  the  spirit.  The  humours  of  the  body  easily 
become  the  humours  of  the  mind.  Black  melan- 
choly,  the   cheerful   colours  of  hope,  golden  joy. 


in  Christian  Experience  83 

Bweet  peace,  tormenting  doubt,  gloomy  despair, 
clear  vision,  and  triumphant  assurance,  all  the 
frames  and  moods  of  the  soul,  are  regulated  in  a 
real  degree  by  the  ever- varying  fortunes  of  the  flesh. 
Triumphantly  enough  the  Christian  life  often  sets 
physiology  at  defiance ;  but  bone,  brain,  and  muscle 
tell  their  tale  in  our  complex  life.  It  is  said 
that  there  are  ten  million  nerve  fibres  in  the 
human  body,  so  we  may  reasonably  expect  a  few 
strange  sensations.  Then  beyond  these  obvious 
conditions  of  feeling  are  obscure  causes,  partly  bodily, 
partly  mental,  which  deeply  affect  our  fancies  and 
sentiments.  Scientists  and  philosophers  know  that 
we  are  subjects  of  influences  and  impulses  which 
we  do  not  in  the  least  understand ;  that  we  are 
swayed  by  the  unknown  and  the  unconscious ;  that 
in  our  life  are  unrecognised  thoughts  and  forces, 
laws  and  sub-laws,  which  move  and  mould  us,  as  in 
the  depths  of  space  are  dark  orbs  which  astronomers 
infer  without  ever  being  able  to  discover.  Our 
feelings  do  not  invariably  follow  our  state  of  health 
or  our  worldly  condition  ;  sometimes  they  palpably 
contradict  our  circumstances,  being  exactly  contrary 
to  what  we  should  expect  them  to  be — all  serene  and 
even  gay  with  night  and  winter  for  an  environment ; 
all  disquieted  and  despairing  in  a  noonday  and 
midsummer  of  visible  prosperity  and  blessing.  We 
wrestle  not  only  with  flesh  and   blood,  but   with 


84  The  Value  of  Feeling 

impalpable  and  imponderable  forces  which  elude 
our  philosophy.  There  is  an  electricity  behind  elec- 
tricity which  plays  about  us  and  makes  sport  of  the 
wisest  and  best.  In  the  centre  of  every  human  life 
is  a  realm  of  the  unknown,  "  a  land  of  darkness,  as 
darkness  itself;  and  of  the  shadow  of  death,  with- 
out any  order,  and  where  the  light  is  as  darkness." 

We  must  be  cautious  how  for  we  trust  feeling.  In 
many  respects  it  is  the  most  untrustworthy  part  of 
our  nature.  Now  up  and  now  down,  now  rejoicing 
in  life  and  now  bewailing  it,  now  full  of  comforts 
and  visions  and  now  shut  up  without  a  gleam  of 
hope  or  spark  of  glimmering  day,  we  need  ever 
to  go  back  to  the  great  standards,  testing  afresh 
our  tempers,  principles,  and  actions.  A  man  says, 
"  I  feel  very  cold,  the  temperature  must  be  nearly 
freezing ;  I  feel  veiy  hot,  the  day  is  tropical "  :  yet 
on  examining  the  theraiometer  he  probably  finds 
that  it  is  neither  so  hot  nor  so  cold  as  he  imagined ; 
his  impression  is  wide  of  the  mark.  A  man  sustains 
a  few  losses,  and  then  broods  over  them  until  he  is 
convinced  that  he  has  sustained  great  reverses  and 
stands  on  the  verge  of  bankruptcy ;  but  opening  the 
iron  chest  and  examining  one  by  one  his  securities 
he  knows  himself  rich,  and  the  nightmare  sense  of 
ruin  is  dissipated.  Or  it  may  be  the  contrary  :  the 
man  feels  himself  rich  and  prosperous,  yet  testing 
his  glowing  sentiments  by  his   ledger    he   knows 


in  Christian  Experience  85 

himself  a  beggar.  Feeling  may  imply  unreality, 
exaggeration,  and  misleading.  Let  us  constantly 
test  our  faith,  conscience,  and  conduct  by  the 
eternal,  unalterable  standard:  if  we  are  right  there, 
the  dreariest  feelings  need  not  alarm  us  ;  if  we  are 
wrong  there,  the  most  buoyant  and  ecstatic  feeling 
will  only  mislead  us. 

JVe  must  seek  to  discipline  feeling.  Our  impres- 
sions must  not  be  allowed  to  run  away  with  us. 
Self-government  means  much  more  than  the  rule 
of  words  and  actions ;  it  means  the  rule  of  the 
spirit — that  is,  of  our  thoughts,  intents,  and  moods. 
Some  Christians  are  in  a  very  large  degree  the 
creatures  of  imagination  and  emotion.  They  could 
never  give  a  good  account  why  they  are  all  smiles 
or  all  tears ;  slight  and  superficial  causes  make  the 
vastest,  the  most  violent,  and  the  most  irrational 
changes  in  their  experience.  It  is  unsafe  thus  to 
be  the  victims  of  sensation. 

We  must  discipline  feeling  by  knowledge  —  all 
kinds  of  knowledge,  especially  divine  knowledge. 
Experienced  travellers  know  tests  by  which  they 
determine  what  is  real  in  a  prospect  and  what  is 
mirage.  We  ought  to  be  able  to  act  thus  in  a  life 
so  troubled  with  illusions  as  ours  is.  We  want 
ever  more  knowledge  of  Christ's  laws,  of  His 
promises,  of  His  will,  and  of  Himself.  Knowledge 
is  a  grand  guarantee  ag-ainst  erratic  feeling.     Let 


86  The  Value  of  Feeling 

us  study  the  Bible  more,  and  we  shall  be  sure 
how  far  feeling  is  the  index  of  fact ;  we  shall  know 
v/liat  is  genuine  and  significant  in  it,  and  what  is 
accidental  and  non-moral.  We  must  discipline 
feeling  by  action.  The  hfe  of  duty,  of  practical 
and  constant  duty,  saves  from  caprices  and  vagaries 
bred  of  reveries  and  contemplations.  Daily  duty 
earnestly  and  faithfully  carried  out  keeps  feeling 
pure  and  sane.  Excessive  brooding  means  a  course 
of  chiUs  and  fevers,  of  unmeaning  intoxications  and 
despairs.  Action  brings  into  experience  a  strong 
and  stable  element ;  in  such  a  life  we  test  ourselves 
at  a  thousand  points  by  the  actuahties  of  the  imi- 
verse.  We  feel  truly  as  we  act,  and  act  truly.  We 
must  discipline  feeling  by  sympathy.  Selfishness  is 
at  the  root  of  many  eiToneous  conceptions  and  of 
much  false  feeKng.  The  more  we  enter  into  the 
lives  of  others  and  live  for  them  the  more  unlikely 
are  we  to  become  the  dupes  of  imagination.  A 
soHtary,  selfish  hfe  teems  with  delusions  and  false 
estimates.  To  feel  truly  in  all  things  concerning 
our  character,  standing,  and  hope  is  to  feel  much 
and  deeply  for  others. 

The  constant  play  of  feeling  is  not  useless ;  it 
is,  under  the  direction  of  the  Spirit,  educating  us 
even  more  than  circumstances  do,  and  through 
ten  thousand  alternations  of  emotion  we  come  to 
fulness  and  mellowness  of  life. 


XV 

A  MEDITATION   FOR   EASTER 

And  when  I  saw  Him,  I  fell  at  His  feet  as  dead.  And  He 
laid  His  right  hand  upon  me,  saying  unto  me,  Fear  not ;  I  am 
the  first  and  the  last :  I  am  He  that  liveth,  and  was  dead  ;  and, 
behold,  I  am  alive  for  evermore,  Amen  ;  and  have  the  keys  oi 
hell  and  of  death. — Rev.  i.  17,  iS. 

**  Fear  not."  How  full  of  consolation  are  these 
great  words !  They  breathe  majestic  sympathy, 
and  it  is  impossible  to  hear  the  triumphant  strain 
without  partaking  in  some  degree  of  the  magnifi- 
cent exaltation  it  announces. 

1.  The  text  is  consolatory  in  the  prospect  of  death. 
Keys  are  symbols  of  authority  and  law,  and  the  keys 
of  death  remind  us  that  government  and  order 
prevail  in  the  realm  of  mortality.  Having  regard 
to  events  which  we  constantly  witness,  it  might 
seem  that  death  is  entirely  lawless.  Sweeter  than 
the  virgin  rose,  the  young  perish  with  the  rose, 
whilst  the  very  aged  wearily  grow  older  still ;  the 
strong  are  broken  by  siclaiess  in  a  day,  whilst  the 
fccijle  linger  on  in  helplessness  and  pain  ;  the  good 


88  A  Meditation  for  Easter 

cease  from  the  land,  whilst  the  vicious  remain  to 
torment  and  pollute.  We  know  not  when  death 
will  make  its  appearance,  or  whom  it  will  strike ; 
it  seems  the  most  fitful  of  agents,  setting  at  nought 
all  probability  and  prophecy.  But  just  as  the 
meteorologist  sees,  and  sees  ever  more  clearly, 
how  law  governs  the  wind  which  bloweth  where 
it  listeth,  so  the  actuary  discerns  regulating 
principles  under  the  apparent  capriciousness  of 
death,  and  bases  his  insurance  tables  upon  those 
ascertained  principles.  However  it  may  seem,  the 
dark  archer  never  draws  his  bow  at  a  venture. 
The  gate  of  the  grave  is  not  blown  about  by  the 
winds  of  chance;  it  has  keys,  it  opens  and  shuts 
by  royal  authority. 

If,  then,  we  live  wisely,  our  death  shall  not  be 
accidental  or  untimely.  I  say,  if  we  live  wisely ; 
for  it  is  quite  possible  to  break  the  law  here,  as 
it  is  to  break  it  elsewhere,  and  so  die  prematurely. 
The  wicked  do  not  live  out  half  their  days, 
and  good  men  through  ignorance  and  infirmity 
shorten  their  life.  But  according  to  the  measure 
of  our  wisdom  we  shall  infallibly  fulfil  our  ap- 
pointed time.  The  engineer  who  constructs  a 
locomotive  knows  the  distance  it  will  cover  be- 
fore it  is  worn  out,  one  engine  being  calculated  to 
accomplish  a  greater  mileage,  another  less.  Using 
material  of  a  certain  weight  and  quality,  he  Icnows 


A  Meditation  for  Easter  89 

with  tolerable  accuracy  what  wear  and  tear  his 
machine  will  endure,  and,  barring  accidents,  how 
long  it  will  run.  Thus  He  by  whose  hand  we  are 
fashioned  and  by  whom  all  our  members  were 
curiously  wrought  knows  the  possibilities  of  our 
individual  constitution,  knows  how  far  the  throb- 
bing machinery  will  go  ere  the  weary  wheels  stand 
still :  our  appointed  days  are  written  in  our  physio- 
logical powers,  not  in  a  mystical  Book  of  Fate. 
From  this  point  of  view  it  is  not  difficult  to  tmder- 
stand  how  one  oi'ganism  accomplishes  a  long  journey, 
whilst  another  breaks  down,  having  accomplished 
a  few  stages  only. 

We  said  the  locomotive  will  cover  a  given  dis- 
tance, barling  accidents ;  but  what  of  the  acci- 
dents which  may  put  an  end  to  the  career  of  the 
locomotive  before  its  possibilities  are  exhausted  ? 
And  what  of  the  thousand  accidents  which  may  put 
a  period  to  human  life  in  its  very  prime  and  power  ? 
Our  answer  is.  Under  the  personal  sovereign  govern- 
ment of  Heaven  no  real  accident  is  possible  to  virtue. 
How  fully  in  the  days  of  His  flesh  did  the  Lord  of 
life  and  death  recognise  the  fact  that  no  man,  no 
thing,  no  event,  could  interrupt  or  prevent  the 
fulfilment  of  His  great  mission !  "  The  same  day 
thex'e  came  certain  of  the  Pharisees,  saying  unto 
Jesus,  Get  Thee  out,  and  depart  hence  :  for  Herod 
will  kill  Thee.     And  He  said  unto  them.  Go  ye. 


90  A  Meditation  for  Easter 

and  tell  that  fox.  Behold,  I  cast  out  devils,  and  I 
do  cures  to-day  and  to-morrow,  and  the  third  day 
I  shall  be  perfected"  (Luke  xiii.  31,  32).  And 
again  later :  "  Then  saith  Pilate  unto  Jesus,  Speak- 
est  Thou  not  unto  me  ?  knowest  Thou  not  that  I 
have  power  to  crucify  Thee,  and  have  power  to 
release  Thee  ?  Jesus  answered.  Thou  couklest 
have  no  power  at  all  against  Me,  except  it  were 
given  thee  from  above"  (John  xix.  10,  11).  No 
man  might  interfere  with  His  destiny.  And  what 
was  true  of  the  Master  is  true  of  His  disciples — ■ 
they  too  are  immortal  until  their  work  is  done. 
In  Old  Testament  times  men  earnestly  desired  a  life 
that  should  be  visibly  dramatic  and  complete,  one 
that  should  be  full  of  days,  riches,  and  honour ;  but 
the  New  Testament  recognises  that  apparently  muti- 
lated and  incomplete  lives  are  not  really  so,  they 
having  attained  a  deeper,  grander  completeness. 
"  So  John  finished  his  com-se."  Finished  it  early, 
violently,  sadly;  it  was  not  therefore  a  broken, 
frustrated  life,  but  one  finished  as  a  picture  or  an 
epic  is.  John  does  not  stand  in  the  tem})le  of 
God  as  the  shattered  column  in  the  churchyard, 
but  as  a  pillar  fair  and  tall,  richly  adorned  from 
base  to  capital,  bearing  a  weight  of  glory.  Speak- 
ing to  a  man  surprised  by  death,  and  who  says,  "  I 
have  not  finished  the  five  acts,  but  only  three  of 
them,"     Marcus    Aurelius    replies,    "Thou    sayest 


A  Meditation  for  Easter  91 

well;  but  in  life  the  three  acts  are  the  whole 
drama.  For  what  shall  be  a  complete  drama  is 
determined  by  him  who  once  was  the  cause  of  its 
composition,  and  now  of  its  dissolution.  But  thou 
art  the  cause  of  neither.  Depart,  then,  satisfied, 
for  he  also  who  releases  thee  is  satisfied."  If  the 
pagan  philosopher  could  see  this,  how  much  more 
ought  it  to  be  understood  by  us  who  know  Him 
that  hath  the  keys  of  life  and  death  ! 

Our  lives  are  not,  then,  the  sport  of  fate  and 
circumstance.  All  shall  come  to  pass  in  God's 
good  time,  or  with  His  wise  permission.  The 
woodman  knows  how  trees  of  different  species 
must  be  felled  at  various  seasons ;  it  is  best  that 
gome  should  be  cut  down  with  the  fresh  leaves  of 
spring  upon  them,  that  the  axe  should  smite  others 
whilst  they  are  robed  in  summer's  pomp,  whilst  a 
third  kind  must  fall  when  the  sap  dies  down  in 
autumn  and  the  leaves  are  tinged  with  the  colours 
of  decay.  The  forester  knows  when  to  smite  the 
forest  glories ;  and  there  is  One  who  knows  why 
some  human  lives  cease  in  their  sweet  spring,  why 
others  perish  in  manhood's  pride,  and  why,  again, 
others  survive  to  patriarchal  years.  At  the  right 
time,  at  the  right  place,  and  m  the  right  way  we 
suffer  the  stroke  of  mortality.  Death  to  some  may 
be  a  blind  Fury  cutting  short  life's  thin  thread ; 
but  we  know  that  the  power  of  life  and  death  is  in 


92  A  Meditation  for  Easter 

the  hands  of  One  whose  name  is  Love,  and  before 
His  fingers  turn  the  key  His  eyes  of  flame  see  the 
necessity  and  dictate  the  moment. 

2.  The  text  is  consolatory  in  the  article  of  death. 
We  have  here  not  only  teaching  concerning  the 
law  of  death,  but  also  precious  doctrine  touching 
the  lawgiver.  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Lord  of  death. 
By  virtue  of  His  divinity  He  holds  the  mystic  keys. 
"  I  am  the  first  and  the  last,  and  the  Living  One." 
"  I  am  the  Alpha  and  the  Omega,  saith  the  Lord 
God,  which  is  and  which  was  and  which  is  to  come, 
the  Almighty."  It  is  the  prerogative  of  Almighty 
God  to  give  life,  to  sustain  it,  and  to  take  it  away. 
But  Christ  is  also  Lord  of  death  by  vii-tue  of  His 
own  death  and  resurrection :  "  I  was  dead,  and 
behold,  I  am  alive,"  and  so  with  special  propriety 
and  significance  He  holds  sovereignty  in  the  king- 
dom of  shades.  The  actuary,  as  we  have  seen,  is 
fully  convinced  that  within  the  seeming  fortuitous- 
ness of  death  there  is  an  all-enfolding,  all-compel- 
ling law ;  but  it  remains  for  revelation  to  show  the 
nature  of  that  law,  and  by  whom  it  is  administered. 
Here,  then,  is  the  grand  teaching  of  the  text :  the 
law  of  death  is  the  active  will  of  Jesus  Christ. 

It  is  the  glory  of  Christianity  that  it  consist- 
ently exhibits  law  not  as  metaphysical  rule,  im- 
personal force,  or  abstract  order,  but  as  the  action 
of  a  personal,  intelligent,  loving  Ruler.     The  law 


A  Meditation  for  Easter  93 

of  creation  is  the  will  of  a  wise  and  gracious 
Creator,  who  rejoices  in  all  that  His  hands  have 
made ;  the  law  of  evolution  is  the  will  of  an 
Evolver,  who  with  wise  purpose  and  unfailing 
intelligence  presses  forwai'd  all  things  to  a  "far- 
off  divine  event " ;  the  law  of  dissolution  is  the 
will  of  a  just  and  infallible  Judge,  who  deter- 
mines all  crises.  What  comfort  would  it  be  to 
the  dying  to  know  that  death  was  regulated  by  an 
impei-sonal,  absolute  decree,  to  know  that  it  was  a 
stem,  methodical  law  that  bore  us  dovvTi  to  the 
grave  ?  The  consciousness  of  law  is  gratifying  to 
the  logical  understanding ;  but  there  is  little 
satisfaction  in  finding  ourselves  dominated  by  a 
bloodless  law  that  with  undeviating  regularity 
sweeps  us  and  our  fellows  into  the  dust.  It  in- 
spires no  comfort  to  think  of  the  dark  reaper 
advancing  upon  us  with  pitiless  face,  measured 
step,  and  murderous  steel,  mowing  down  with 
faultless  uniformity  sweet  flower  and  bearded  grain. 
That  Death  does  his  terrible  work  systematically  is 
cold  comfort  to  dying  men ;  but  it  is  a  mighty 
consolation  to  find  that  the  law  of  death  is  the 
law  of  love,  and  to  know  that  the  reaper  is  the 
Redeemer.  When  Dr.  James  Hamilton  was  dying, 
his  brother  spoke  to  him  of  "  death's  cold  embrace." 
Said  the  dying  saint,  "  There  is  no  cold  embrace, 
William ;   there  is  no  cold  embrace."    If  our  dis- 


94  A  Meditation  for  Easter 

solution  were  effected  simply  by  mysterious  abstract 
law  working  in  the  dark,  it  were  indeed  a  cold 
embrace ;  it  is,  however,  no  longer  cold  when  it  is 
the  pressure  of  the  breast  on  which  John  leaned. 

In  the  days  of  our  dissolution,  when  our  heart 
and  flesh  fail,  we  shall  need  consolation  and 
strength,  and,  thank  God !  we  may  have  it.  He 
who  ever  sympathises  with  His  people  will  be 
able  to  succour  us.  He  who  walked  the  waves  of 
Galilee  rules  also  the  swellings  of  Jordan,  com- 
manding strength  and  peace  in  the  trying  hour. 
Wearied  with  the  burdens  of  life,  we  go  to  Him 
and  find  sympathy,  for  He  too  was  a  son  of 
hardship  and  toil ;  fainting  under  temptation. 
He  strengthens  us,  for  He  also  was  led  into  the 
wilderness  to  be  tempted  of  the  devil ;  and  so  amid 
the  anguish  and  mystery  of  death  we  have  a  tender 
and  faithful  helper  in  Him  who  tasted  the  sharpness 
of  death  when  He  "  opened  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
to  all  believers."  He  knew  death  under  its  most 
terrible  form,  in  the  most  revolting  place,  and  in 
its  direst  power. 

But  none  of  the  ransomed  ever  knew 

How  deep  were  the  waters  crossed, 
Nor  how  dark  was   the    night   that   the  Lord  passed 
through, 

Ere  He  found  His  sheep  that  was  lost. 

"He   laid    His   right   hand   upon  me."      John 


A  Meditation  for  Easter  95 

knew  the  touch  of  that  vanished  hand ;  he  had  felt 
its  wondrous  virtue  in  days  long  past,  its  softness, 
its  warmth,  its  energy,  and  it  was  with  unspeak- 
able joy  that  he  felt  again  the  touch  that  thrilled 
his  whole  frame  mth  abounding  life  and  power. 
"  Saying  unto  me.  Fear  not."  John  was  a  young 
man  when  he  last  heard  that  voice  so  full  of 
strange  tones ;  now  he  is  a  veiy  old  man,  but 
he  immediately  recognises  the  accents  of  infinite 
truth  and  love.  So  death  will  bring  us  a  fresh 
revelation  of  our  risen  Lord,  filling  our  failing 
heart  with  measureless  courage  and  peace.  In 
dying  we  are  not  mocked  by  a  blind  Fury 
or  crushed  by  an  abstract  law,  terrified  by  a 
skeleton  or  torn  by  a  demon ;  we  awake  to 
find  ourselves  altogether  in  His  hands  who  is 
eternal  light,  life,  love,  and  beauty.  The  same 
gentle,  masterful  hands  that  built  this  tabernacle 
shall  take  it  down  again  with  not  a  whit  less 
tenderness  and  wisdom.  "  Precious  in  the  sight 
of  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  His  saints."  In  the 
light  of  this  text  death  becomes  transfigured  ;  the 
keys  are  in  the  pierced  hand ;  the  keys  are  golden, 
they  open  a  door  into  heaven.  Thinking  of  these 
things  strange  music  steals  upon  our  senses,  the 
rough  wilderness  smiles  with  flowers,  a  light 
above  the  brightness  of  the  sun  gilds  pain  and 
sickness,  coffin  and  sepulchre  with  gold,  and  in  the 


96  A  Meditation  for  Easter 

hour  and  article  of  death  these  foretastes  shall  be 
fulfilled  beyond  all  imagination ;  we  shall  not  taste 
death,  we  shall  not  see  it. 

3.  The  text  inspires  deep  consolation  touching 
the  issues  of  death.  "  I  am  alive  for  evermore." 
"  I  have  the  keys  of  the  invisible  universe."  There 
is  a  limit  to  the  po?rer  of  death.  It  does  not 
destroy  the  personality ;  the  dead  may  live  again, 
live  in  new  power  and  splendour.  I'here  is  a  limit 
to  the  range  of  death.  **  Alive  unto  the  ages  of 
the  ages."  In  the  face  of  those  oriental  systems 
which  threatened  men  with  endless  deaths,  trans- 
migrations, and  metamorphoses,  systems  which 
modern  paganism  seeks  to  revive,  Christianity 
holds  that  the  faithful  pass  through  one  eclipse 
only  into  personal,  conscious,  immortal  life.  The 
law  of  death  is  not  the  law  of  all  worlds ;  there 
are  spheres  where  it  has  no  place,  golden  ages 
undimmed  by  its  shadow. 

Recent  science  teaches  startling  things  con- 
cerning death.  It  affii-ms  that  mortality  does 
not  arise  necessai-ily  out  of  the  constitution  of 
things,  that  it  is  never  a  crisis  originating  within 
the  organism,  but  always  the  consequence  of 
environment ;  and  the  scientist  asserts  that  earth 
contains  mjTiads  of  living  creatures  which  are 
practically  immortal.  But  strangely  enough  the 
perennial  organisms   of  science   are   the  simplest 


A  Meditation  for  Easter  97 

and  lowest  of  existing  organisms ;  death  fs  the 
consequence  of  a  certain  complexity  and  nobility  of 
being — the  infusoria  are  immortal,  men  who  stand 
in  gloi-y  at  the  top  of  the  scale  being  appointed 
unto  death.  One  of  the  poets  speaks  of  "  the 
security  of  insignificance  " ;  the  animalcules  enjoy 
this  security,  whilst  man  with  his  greatness  is  the 
victim  of  mortality.  But  this  paradox  is  not  for 
ever,  Christ  alive  for  evermore  declares  that  im- 
mortality is  the  prerogative  of  the  highest  being 
also.  The  monad  is  inaccessible  to  death  by 
being  too  low ;  man  in  Christ  is  inaccessible  to 
death,  being  too  high.  "And  there  shall  be  no 
more  death,  neither  soitow  nor  crying."  We  need 
not  be  afraid  of  the  universe  lying  beyond ;  Christ 
is  the  King  in  those  unknown  spaces  and  ages, 
and  He  reigns  there  in  infinite  perfection  that 
He  may  bring  many  sons  to  share  His  gloiy. 

"Fear  not."  True,  we  can  never  be  wholly 
reconciled  to  death.  Darvvin  used  to  go  into 
the  London  Zoological  Gardens,  and,  standing 
by  the  glass  case  containing  the  cobra  di  capello, 
put  his  forehead  against  the  glass  while  the 
cobra  struck  out  at  him.  The  glass  was  between 
them :  Darwin's  mind  was  perfectly  convinced 
as  to  the  inability  of  the  snake  to  harm  him, 
yet  whenever  the  venomous  thing  struck  out 
the  scientist  dodged.     Time  after  time  he  tried  it, 

SERIES  I.  f 


98  A  Meditation  for  Easter 

his  will  and  reason  keejDing  him  there,  his  instinct 
making  him  shrink.  The  instinct  was  stronger 
than  will  and  reason.  And  it  is  much  like  this 
with  the  Christian's  attitude  toward  death :  he 
knows  that  its  sting  cannot  hann  him,  but  an 
instinct  within  causes  him  to  shrink  whenever 
he  comes  into  contact  with  the  ghastly  thing, 
and  this  instinct  will  not  be  altogether  denied 
whatever  the  Christian  reason  may  say.  But  in 
this  shrinking  is  no  terror  or  despair. 

"  Amen."  Some  expositors  hold  that  this  Amen 
is  John's.  He  was  so  delighted  with  the  vision  of 
his  Master,  so  transported  with  the  grand  words 
that  his  Master  spoke,  that  he  could  no  longer 
restrain  himself,  and  so  burst  in  with  the  sound  of 
a  grand  Amen.     John's  joy  is  ours. 


XVI 
TO  GOD 

Whatsoever  ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God. — i  Cor,  z.  31. 

Jenny  Lind  once  said  to  John  Addington  Symonds, 
"  I  sing  to  God."  Coming  as  it  did  from  the  heart, 
it  was  a  fine  expression.  The  famous  cantatrice 
was  deeply  devout,  and  these  words  expressed  the 
secret  of  her  soul.  She  had  a  vivid  sense  of  God, 
a  boundless  joy  in  Him,  and  her  music  was  the 
spontaneous  acknowledgment  of  His  presence  and 
beauty.  Why  should  we  not  do  all  the  work  ot 
life  in  the  same  spirit  ? — " I  sing  for  God  "  ;  "I 
plough  for  God  " ;  "I  write  for  God " ;  "I  build 
for  God "  ;  "I  weave  for  God " ;  "I  buy  and  sell 
for  God."  All  that  Jenny  Lind  sang  was  not 
strictly  sacred — it  was  often,  no  doubt,  secular  and 
trivial ;  but  she  had  ever  a  commanding  sense  of 
the  heavenly  presence,  and  sang  to  the  God  whose 
gladness  filled  her  heart.  So  whatever  our  task 
may  be  we  may  serve  Him  day  and  night  in  His 
pi'esence. 

What  a  sense  of  bovmdless  freedom  and  joyous- 


100  To  God 

ness  such  a  habit  will  secure  !  Living  in  fellowship 
with  God,  and  ofFei'ing  all  our  works  to  Him, 
ensures  a  wonderful  consciousness  of  spaciousness 
and  liberty.  The  difference  between  living  to 
society  and  living  to  God  is  the  difference  between 
living  in  a  cage  and  singing  in  a  sky.  Constrained 
and  cramped  is  the  life  that  looks  no  farther 
than  human  appreciation  or  displeasure ;  but  to 
prize  and  to  enjoy  God's  favour  is  to  soar  on 
eagle's  wing,  to  sing  with  the  lark  at  heaven's 
gate.  No  wonder  that  so  much  of  our  work  is 
poorly  done  when  we  remember  how  poor  our 
inspirations  often  are. 

Life  is  strong  and  peaceful  if  whatsoever  we  do 
is  done  unto  God.  The  great  singer  of  whom  we 
write  cared  the  very  least  about  criticism.  Whilst 
most  artists  are  eaten  up  by  anxiety  as  to  what 
the  papers  will  say  about  them,  the  "  nightingale  " 
was  supi'emely  serene.  "  I  sing  to  God,"  said  she, 
and  the  murmurs  of  human  applause  or  dissent 
died  away  below  her  feet.  How  good  it  is  to 
detach  ourselves  from  all  bondage  to  men, 
submitting  ourselves  day  by  day  imto  God !  If 
we  follow  out  the  apostolic  injunction,  and  live 
not  with  eye  -  service  as  men  -  pleasers,  but  in 
singleness  of  heart  unto  Christ,  we  find  the  living 
fountain  of  assurance  and  quietness.  Hence- 
forth we  are  free  from  corroding  care.     If  His 


To  God  loi 

judgment  is  for  us,  who  can  be  against  us?     If  His 
judgment  is  against  us,  His  mercy  gives  us  peace. 

I  ask  Thee  for  a  present  mind, 

Intent  on  pleasing  Thet. 

What  dignity  all  life  acquires  if  we  relate  it  to 
God  !  There  was  a  certain  aloofness  juid  loftiness 
in  the  great  Swedish  singer ;  and  the  sense  of 
being  God's  minister  gives  to  any  life  that  noble 
pride  which  is  our  bu-thright,  and  which  we 
ought  carefully  to  cherish.  Do  we  not  see  on  a 
lower  level  how  fond  people  are  of  linking  their 
name  and  calling  with  royalty  ?  "  Purveyor  to  His 
Majesty."  We  sometimes  wonder  how  these  petty 
hucksters  came  to  possess  this  sounding  title.  No 
doubt  the  distinction  often  rests  on  a  slender 
charter,  a  mere  gossamer  thread  binds  the  obscure 
counter  to  the  throne ;  yet  the  privilege  is  sedu- 
lously guarded,  and  throws  a  coveted  lustre  upon 
the  village  shop.  But  how  truly  grand  to  relate 
all  life  to  God,  even  in  its  lowliest  phases ! 
Nothing  is  then  common  or  unclean.  Everything 
is  on  the  altar ;  all  is  sacramental.  Every  service 
is  as  royal  as  the  golden  crowns  cast  on  the  jasper 
pavement.  This  gives  to  the  ordinary  life  infinite 
honour  and  content. 

"  1  sing  to  God  "  did  not  mean  careless  singing , 
it   meant  that  the  minstrel  did  her  sweetest  and 


102  To  God 

best.  She  sang  well  because  she  sang  to  God. 
So  to  do  all  for  the  glory  of  God  means  in  all 
things  to  do  our  best.  For  His  eye !  His  ear ! 
His  service !  Most  perfect  ought  that  woi'k  to 
be  which  challenges  His  judgment — most  faultless 
the  soul  that  would  stand  in  His  presence. 


xvn 

THE  SUPERIOR  OBLIGATIONS  OF 
CHRISTIANS 

What  do  ye  more  than  others? — Matt.  t.  47. 

The  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  is  a  religion  of  doing  ; 
not  a  religion  of  mere  feeling  or  contemplation, 
doctrine  or  worship,  but  one  of  character  and 
conduct.  "Do"  and  "doing"  are  words  ever 
on  the  Master's  lips.  The  religion  of  Christ  is, 
however,  not  only  a  religion  of  doing;  it  is  also 
a  religion  of  handsome  doing.  More  is  expected 
from  the  Christian  than  from  others,  no  matter 
who  they  may  be.  Some  translate  our  text,  What 
abundant  or  singidar  thing  do  ye  }  The  righteous- 
ness of  ftiith  surpasses  the  goodness  of  the  world. 

1.  It  excels  in  comprehensiveness.  We  cannot 
read  the  New  Testament  without  feeling  that 
virtues  are  enjoined  in  the  Christian  programme 
which  found  no  recognition  in  the  ethics  of 
philosophy.  Forgiveness,  humility,  contentment, 
patience,     sincerity,     charity,     simplicity  —  these 

103 


I04   The  Superior  Obligations  of  Christians 

and  other  virtues  were  most  inadequately  re- 
cognised in  the  ethics  of  paganism,  if,  indeed, 
they  were  recognised  at  all.  Let  an  impartial 
reader  compare  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  with 
the  teachings  of  other  moralists,  and  he  will 
become  vividly  conscious  that  Christ  immensely 
extended  the  range  of  duty.  Explorers  in  the 
East  disinter  from  the  dust  of  ages  articles  which 
prove  that  the  ancients  had  some  knowledge  of 
most  of  the  great  wonders  of  art  and  science, 
of  mechanics  and  manufacture,  of  commerce  and 
government ;  but  we  know  that  modem  civilisation 
has  developed  beyond  all  possibility  of  exaggera- 
tion the  germs  of  knowledge  possessed  by  the 
Old  World.  So  in  the  most  ancient  literature 
are  hints  of  delicate  and  nebulous  virtues ;  yet 
on  the  lips  of  Christ  these  perfections  of  con- 
duct found  clearness  and  fulness  of  expression, 
they  shone  in  excelling  beauty,  they  attained 
authority  and  force.  Ancient  morality,  like 
ancient  astronomy,  concerned  itself  with  a  narrow 
sky  and  a  few  stars  :  the  morality  of  Christ,  like 
the  astronomy  of  Copernicus  and  Newton,  lets 
us  into  the  infinite  heaven,  with  some  constella- 
tions not  seen  before,  and  with  new  possibilities 
of  character  ever  glowing  into  sight. 

?..  It  excels  in  Ihowu^hncss.     A  <jreat  distinction 
between    worldly    and    Christian    goodness   is  the 


The  Superior  Obligations  of  Christians    105 

thoroughness  of  the  latter.  The  natural  con- 
science has  general  views  of  conduct  and  duty, 
judging  loosely;  the  cultivated  Christian  conscience 
has  an  exactness  quite  its  own.  On  an  ordinary 
weathercock  the  four  quarters  are  distinguished, 
E,  w,  N,  s,  and  we  roughly  judge  which  way  the 
wind  blows,  in  what  direction  our  path  lies.  The 
mariner's  compass,  however,  is  a  much  finer  in- 
strument of  direction.  Not  only  does  it  give  the 
four  cardinal  points,  but  thirty-two  points  are 
exactly  marked  and  named,  so  that  the  mariner 
may  guide  his  barque  with  severest  precision. 
The  worldly  conscience  has  its  e,  w,  n,  s,  its 
general  notions  of  right  and  wrong;  but  in  the 
Christian  moral  sense  are  written  finer  laws,  and 
in  the  manifold  details  of  daily  Hfe  we  realise 
a  prevailing  sense  of  sacred  obligation.  One  of 
the  special  features  of  Christian  morahty  is  that 
it  extends  to  the  minutest  details  of  life,  and 
demands  the  highest  principle  in  the  smallest 
matters.  The  worldly  conscience  weighs  things 
roughly  as  a  colliery  weighing-machine  weighs 
them  ;  in  a  Christian  conscience  they  are  weighed 
as  in  jewellers'  scales.  Or,  to  change  the  image, 
the  man  of  the  world  measures  duty  by  "  rule  of 
thumb"  ;  the  Christian  judges  by  the  eternal  law 
of  love  and  righteousness.  A  very  convenient 
method  is  "the   rule   of  thumb,"   for  in  buying 


io6    The  Superior  Obligations  of  Christians 

what  purports  to  be  a  yard  of  cloth  we  find  that  it 
measures  only  thirty-five  inches,  and  in  selling  the 
same  yard  it  clearly  measures  better  than  thirty- 
six  ;  but  the  application  of  the  standard  yard- 
measure  puts  an  end  to  these  vagaries.  The 
teachings  of  Christ  render  our  duty  in  all  things 
clear  and  definite  ;  and  the  Christian  life  ought 
to  have  in  it  an  exactness  like  the  exactness  of 
science,  which  weighs  and  measures  things  both 
gi'eat  and  small  in  balances  of  infallible  truthfulness. 
3.  It  excels  in  loftiness.  A  sublime  quality  in- 
heres in  Christian  obedience  which  is  altogether 
lacking  in  conventional  goodness.  All  agree  that 
there  is  a  mysterious  quality  which  makes  some 
pictures  divine,  some  music  entrancing,  some  sculp- 
ture unique.  We  call  this  strange  quality  genius ; 
and  the  creations  of  genius  possess  a  beauty  and 
splendour  that  distinguish  them  from  all  work 
of  mere  industry  and  talent.  The  cartoon,  the 
symphony,  and  the  statue  of  genius  possess  an 
indisputable  and  overmastering  perfection  acknow- 
If ilyed  by  all.  What  genius  is  in  art  spirituality 
is  in  morals,  and  in  truly  Christian  goodness  there 
is  a  divine  element  which  gives  it  a  mysterious 
charm  and  supremacy.  What  grandeur  breathes 
in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  as  compared  with 
Lord  Chesterfield's  maxims  or  Poor  Richard's 
Almanack !     Christian   goodness   is   marked   by  a 


The  Superior  Obligations  of  Christians    107 

loftiness  that  distinguishes  it  from  all  worldly  eti- 
quette or  utilitarian  ethic.  The  holiness  of  the 
New  Testament  is  a  higher  thing  than  any  philoso- 
phical morality  :  it  is  inspired  by  the  love  of  God  ;  it 
is  a  reflection  of  His  perfection.  Matthew  Heniy 
says,  "  Christianity  is  something  more  than  human- 
ity." Christianity  is  something  more  than  morality. 
We  ought  to  be  better  than  the  world's  bad  men, 
better  than  its  good  men,  better  even  than  its 
best  men. 

Let  us  often  put  this  question  to  ourselves, 
**  What  do  ye  more  than  others  ?  "  Christ  puts 
it  to  us,  and  He  has  a  right  to  do  so.  We  say 
moi-e  than  others,  we  profess  more,  we  promise 
more,  we  hope  for  more,  and  therefore  it  may  be 
very  justly  asked.  What  do  ye  more  ? 

Let  us  press  this  question  upon  ourselves  in 
domestic  life.  The  Christian  husband,  wife,  jjarent, 
child,  brother,  or  sister  ought  to  be  prepared  with 
an  answer.  In  the  Christian  home  there  ought  to 
be  a  tenderness,  forbearance,  and  harmony  beyond 
that  of  ordinary  homes.  Is  it  so  }  Are  we  better 
than  the  publicans  ?  Is  there  liglit  in  the 
dwellings  of  Israel  above  the  dwellings  of  the 
Egyptians  } 

Let  us  propose  this  question  to  oui-selves  in 
business  life.  Christian  masters  and  servants,  buyers 
and  sellers,  debtors  and  creditors,  ought  to  stand 


io8   The  Superior  Obligations  of  Christians 

prepared  to  answer  this.  Our  sense  of  truth,  j  ustice, 
and  honour  ought  to  be  most  exquisite.  What 
singular  thmg  do  ye?  The  singular  thing  with 
some  of  these  masters  is  that  the  Sunday  IsraeHte 
changes  on  the  Monday  morning  into  an  Egyptian 
taskmaster ;  the  singular  thing  with  some  of  these 
servants  is  that  they  whistle  away  their  master's 
time  to  the  tune  of  the  Old  Hundred  ;  the  singular 
thing  with  some  of  these  buyers  and  sellers  is  that 
they  get  rich  whilst  professedly  losing  money  on 
everjrthing  in  which  they  deal ;  the  singular  thing 
with  some  of  these  debtors  is  that  eveiy  now  and 
then  they  make  half  a  crown  do  the  work  of  a 
sovereign.  But  this  is  hardly  the  singularity  for 
which  Christ  asks. 

Let  us  ply  ourselves  with  this  question  in  public 
life.  Are  we  the  best  of  neighbours,  friends, 
citizens,  patriots,  philanthropists  ?  Does  that 
fuller,  diviner  goodness  of  the  New  Testament 
reveal  itself  in  our  secular,  social,  and  political 
action  ? 

We  ought  to  put  this  question  to  ourselves  in 
ecclesiastical  life.  The  Church  in  its  unity,  purity, 
and  charity  ought  to  stand  as  distinct  from  the 
world  as  a  star  from  the  firmament  in  which  it 
is  set,  as  a  rainbow  from  the  cloud  on  which  it  is 
painted,  as  a  palm-tree  from  the  wilderness  in 
which  it  blooms. 


The  Superior  Obligations  of  Qiristlans    109 

WTiat  do  ye  ?  What  do  ye  more  than  others  ? 
It  is  not  a  question  of  orthodoxy,  ceremonialism, 
or  ecclesiasticism,  but  of  practical  and  handsome 
life.  Some  eastern  people  hold  the  doctrine  that 
the  goods  of  the  dead  must  be  burned,  as  they  are 
wanted  by  the  departed  spirit  in  the  other  world ; 
the  survivors,  however,  generally  retain  the  real 
goods  and  bum  paper  pictures  of  them,  trusting 
that  this  will  meet  the  case.  Do  we  not  often 
copy  this  inconsistency,  and  seek  to  put  off  the 
Invisible  with  mere  forms,  paper  documents,  and 
worthless  ceremonies?  It  will  not  do.  Our  God 
asks  for  the  glorious  realities  of  true  character, 
purity  of  life,  sincere  deeds  of  virtue  and  charity. 
Only  he  builds  his  house  on  the  rock  who  heareth 
Chiist's  sayings  and  doeth  them. 


XVIII 

THE  PROVINCE  OF  THE  WILL 
IN  CHRISTIAN  EXPERIENCE 

I  will  love  Thee,  O  Lord,  my  strength. — Ps.  xviii.  i, 
I  will  trust  in  the  covert  of  Thy  wings. — Ps.  Ixi.  4. 
I  will  be  glad  in  the  Lord. — Ps.  civ.  34. 

The  Christian,  in  common  with  the  great  majority 
of  men,  recognises  the  force  of  the  will  in  the 
realm  of  circumstances.  We  cannot  say,  I  will  be 
rich,  I  will  be  great,  I  will  be  successful — this 
would  be  presumptuous  and  vain ;  yet  in  the 
realm  of  circumstances  we  allow  the  reality  and 
significance  of  willing.  We  can  hope  to  be  little 
or  to  do  little  without  firm  purpose  and  resolution. 
So  far  as  character  is  concerned,  the  Christian 
maintains  the  sovereignty  of  the  will.  We  can- 
not for  a  moment  allow  that  we  are  necessarily 
mastered  by  our  organisation  or  surroundings.  In 
fierce  and  bitter  temptation  we  are  bound  to 
interpose  our  resolution  and  keep  ourselves  pure. 
The  sanctified  will  is   equivalent  to  all  practical 

righteousness.        But    as    Christians    we    do    not 
110 


The  Province  of  the  Will  1 1 1 

sufficiently  recognise  the  force  of  will  in  regulat- 
ing the  soul's  moods.  We  sit  down  as  perfectly 
helpless,  and  permit  sentiments  of  coldness,  fear, 
and  melancholy  to  rule  us  in  the  most  despotic 
fashion.  We  fully  allow  that  we  can,  to  a  large 
extent,  control  circumstances ;  we  can  always, 
make  a  dead  set  against  temptation ;  yet  we 
weakly  surrender  to  apathy,  sadness,  fear,  and 
other  unhealthy  moods  of  the  soul,  as  if  the  will 
had  no  authority  in  this  direction.  But  this  is 
an  eiTor,  the  will  unquestionably  having  a  deter- 
mining power  in  the  imagination,  sentiments,  and 
desires  of  the  inward  man. 

"I  will  love  Thee,  O  Lord,  my  strength."  If 
we  find  our  heart  strangely  cold,  as,  alas  !  we  often 
do,  we  acquiesce  in  that  coldness  as  in  an  inevit- 
able affliction.  We  wait  as  a  shipwrecked  mariner 
waits  for  the  dawn,  as  one  waits  helplessly  for  the 
spring.  We  shiver  in  the  cold  shadow,  feeling 
that  we  can  do  nothing.  Now,  the  psalmist  did 
not  look  at  the  matter  thus.  "  I  will  love  Thee  " 
— which  was  equivalent  to  saying,  I  will  not  allow 
this  ingratitude,  indifference,  alienation,  and  unbelief 
to  master  and  destroy  my  soul.  John  Foster  said 
of  genius  that  it  has  the  power  of  lighting  its  own 
fire  ;  so,  we  may  add,  has  love,  especially  when  in 
right  willing  it  can  boast,  "  O  Lord,  my  strength." 

"I  will  trust  in  the  covert  of  Thy  wings."     Our 


112  The  Province  of  the  Will 

heart  is  full  of  perplexity  and  foreboding,  and  we 
ask  ourselves  despairingly,  Can  I  help  this  ?  Is  not 
fear  a  state  of  feeling  with  which  the  will  may  not 
intermeddle  ?  The  psalmist  did  not  think  so.  He 
was  not  coward  enough  to  capitulate  to  the  spectres 
of  the  mind.  And  when  these  terrible  dark  moods 
of  unbelief  cloud  our  soul,  we  must  set  against 
them  the  power  of  holy  resolution.  "  I  will  trust, 
and  not  be  afraid."  Confidence,  assurance,  and 
tranquillity  are  commanded  by  the  heroic  soul. 

"  I  will  be  glad  in  the  Lord."  Often  we  resign 
ourselves  to  sadness  and  gloom ;  we  feel  that  to 
fight  with  melancholy  is  to  smite  with  a  sword  the 
fluid  air.  But  the  psalmist  and  prophet  thought 
otherwise :  they  felt  that  they  could  command  the 
sunshine.  We  too  may  vanquish  these  moods  of 
the  night  and  walk  in  the  day. 

We  acknowledge,  as  I  say,  the  dominion  of  the 
will  in  all  questions  of  conduct ;  we  have  power  to 
speak  what  is  true,  to  do  what  is  kind,  to  act  in 
consistency  with  wisdom  and  righteousness.  But 
we  must  not  forget  that  there  is  a  morality  of 
feeling  as  well  as  of  conduct.  In  a  true  sense  cold- 
ness of  heart  is  a  sin  equally  with  a  lapse  in  action, 
fear  is  a  sin  as  well  as  dishonesty,  and  sadness  is 
a  sin  as  well  as  selfishness.  The  will  has  a  wider 
dominion  than  we  sometimes  think,  and  we  are 
responsible  for  our  moods  as  well  as  for  our  doings. 


in  Christian  Experience  113 

The  astronomer  teaches  that  the  peculiar  angle  of 
the  earth's  axis  is  the  true  cause  of  the  seasons — 
the  sweet  spring,  the  glowing  summer,  the  ripe 
autumn,  tlie  dark  winter;  and,  moreover,  he  tells 
us  that  this  angle  is  determined  from  within, 
internal  forces  exercising  more  influence  in  pro- 
ducing the  aberration  of  the  earth's  axis  than  all 
the  external  perturbations  of  the  planets.  So 
also  the  determining  power  is  within  the  heart  of 
man ;  our  changing  moods,  dark  or  bright,  are  the 
result  of  inner  sympathies  and  decisions,  as,  upon 
this  astronomic  theory,  the  earth  displaces  its  own 
axis  and  settles  for  itself  questions  of  climate 
and  season. 

How  does  the  will  effect  these  results  ? 

To  will  aright  gives  the  mind  the  right  attitude. 
How  important  this  is !  We  fail  to  secure  various 
blessings  because  we  have  not  the  proper  attitude 
and  bias  of  souL  To  will  aright  is  to  put  the  soul 
in  position  to  see  great  truths,  to  receive  precious 
gifts.  It  is  part  of  the  preparation  of  the  heart, 
without  which  we  cannot  receive  the  answer  of 
the  tongue. 

To  will  aright  fixes  the  mind  on  the  right  objects. 
It  may  be  thought  that  we  can  no  more  lift  our- 
selves into  a  happy  state  by  willing  than  we  can 
lift  ourselves  by  the  waistband  ;  this  metaphor,  how- 
ever, is  badly  chosen.     In  the  act  of  will  we  plant 

SERIES  L  9 


114  The  Province  of  the  Will 

our  feet  on  God's  promise  and  grace,  and  thus  are 
we  raised  into  heavenly  places.  The  desired  mood 
is  not  willed  directly,  but  the  act  of  willing  fixes 
the  eye  on  the  promises  and  power  of  God,  and 
the  sentiments  of  love,  confidence,  and  joy  spring 
up  in  due  course,  we  know  not  how.  In  coldness 
think  of  God's  love  and  beauty ;  in  fear  sing  of 
His  faithfulness ;  in  every  sorrow  remember  the 
word  of  grace  strong  as  that  which  built  the  skies, 
the  hope  of  glory  which  shall  not  make  us  ashamed. 
Your  miserable  moods  will  vanish  then  as  ghosts 
before  the  morning  lights. 

To  will  aright  gives  to  the  mind  the  right  impetus. 
The  will  is  a  cause,  a  master  cause.  What  amazing 
vigour  a  resolute  volition  shoots  through  the  whole 
life  and  experience !  "  I  will  love,"  "  I  will  trust," 
"  I  will  rejoice  " — and  we  are  at  the  feet  of  God. 
The  will  tilts  the  soul  to  the  sun ;  it  determines 
the  climate  in  which  we  live ;  it  turns  the  tides  of 
feeling. 

Let  us  cultivate  the  will.  It  needs  cultivating 
as  the  conscience  does.  We  see  the  wonderful 
things  that  resolution  effects  in  other  depart- 
ments ;  let  us  to  the  utmost  realise  its  force  in 
the  religious  life.  The  Indian  naturalist  says  that 
when  the  butterflies  start  westward  they  will  not 
stop  though  the  wind  is  against  them  and  the 
sea   before   them;    in    their    migrations    they   fly 


in  Christian  Experience  115 

dead  against  a  strong  sea  breeze,  steadily  making 
their  way.  As  this  deUcate  creature  resists  and 
triumphs  over  the  wild  elements,  so  let  us  brave 
every  ignoble  thing  and  temper,  being  sure  of  the 
&lness  of  victoiy  whatever  our  weakness* 


XIX 

A  MEDITATION  FOR  PENTECOST 

Quench  not  the  Spirit. — i  Thess.  t.  19. 

These  words  remind  us — 

I.  That  the  Spirit  of  God  dwells  in  our  heart, 

WORKING  FOR  OUR  HIGHEST  PERFECTION. 

At  the  back  of  all  grand  intellectual  achievement 

are  spiritual  forces;  a  divine  power  works  in  the 

artist,  giving  him  the  eagle's  eye  and  wing.     In 

one  sense  the  artist  does  the  glorious  work ;  yet  in 

another  sense,  not  less  true,  the  mysterious  energy 

which  takes  possession  of  him  works  the  wonder. 

The  artist  is  only  the  instrument  in  the  hand  of  the 

Spirit  of  Beauty,  the  Spirit  of  Truth,  or  the  Spirit  of 

Power.    Men  who  have  achieved  magnificent  things 

in  art  and  literature  sometimes  attempt  to  tell  an 

admiring  world  how  they  did  those  things,  how  they 

proceeded  of  deliberate  purpose  to  think  out  and 

execute  their  masterpieces ;  but  such  explanations 

are  always  inadequate.     Edgar  Allan  Poe  tells  how 

his  wonderful   poem  "The   Raven"  arose  out  of 

set  purpose  and  cool  calculation.     Holman  Hunt 
110 


A  Meditation  for  Pentecost        1 1 7 

descrilies  in  a  somewhat  similar  manner  his  paint- 
ing of  "The  Scapegoat."  Henry  Ward  Beecher 
and  other  great  preachers  take  students  into 
their  confidence  and  explain  to  them  the  secret 
of  effective  discourse.  But  however  sincere  these 
revelations  of  the  modus  operandi  may  be,  we  are 
conscious  of  their  insufficiency :  we  know  that  in 
all  sublime  creation  is  the  working  of  a  free,  divine 
element  which  defies  explanation.  Men  who  deliver 
great  orations,  sing  immortal  songs,  write  epoch- 
making  books,  or  who  create  marvels  of  artistry 
cannot  tell  how  it  all  came  to  pass,  for  they  do  not 
know. 

Some  authors  and  artificers  can  explain  the  origin 
and  elaboration  of  their  work,  how  they  set  about 
it,  and  how  step  by  step  they  fulfilled  their  cut- 
and-dried  specification.  The  painter  tells  how  he 
consulted  the  grammar  of  ornament  for  every  line 
and  colour,  the  poet  how  he  manufactured  his 
poem  with  the  aid  of  a  dictionary  of  rhymes, 
the  musician  how  he  dotted  his  score  according 
to  musical  law.  The  whole  thing  has  been 
mechanical ;  it  allows  the  fullest  and  most  de- 
tailed explanation;  and  the  craftsman  can  make 
eveiything  clear — only  you  do  not  care  to  know. 
But  the  work  of  strange  perfection,  the  work  that 
fills  the  beholder  witli  wonder  and  delight,  and 
which  the  world  will  never  let  die — this  implies 


ii8       A  Meditation  for  Pentecost 

a  large  element  of  mystery,  and  can  never  be  ex- 
plained. The  great  master  is  inspired,  lifted  up, 
canned  away  by  a  strange  force  which  is  not  him- 
self. The  orator  is  himself  a  mouthpiece ;  the 
painter  is  himself  a  pencil ;  the  musician  is  himself 
an  organ-key  responsive  to  the  touch  of  an  invisible 
finger.  Materialistic  writers  attempt  to  take  the 
mystery  out  of  us,  to  reduce  us  to  the  simplicity 
of  a  sewing-machine,  and  to  explain  categorically 
the  genesis,  the  process,  and  the  ending  of  all  our 
doing  ;  but  the  masterpieces  of  art,  literature,  and 
language  declare  that  there  is  something  more  in 
the  world  than  mud  and  motion,  that  there  is  a 
supernatural  element  in  man,  the  inspirations  of  a 
higher  world.  The  Spirit  of  God  working  in  the 
intellectual  sphere  lifts  men  above  themselves, 
and  strengthens  them  to  do  glorious  things, 
although,  alas  !  anointed  thinkers  and  artists  some- 
times fail  to  recognise  Him  by  whom  they  are 
girded. 

All  this  is  specially  true  concerning  character. 
In  successive  ages  those  who  have  been  greatest 
in  character  and  in  moral  action  have  been  free 
to  confess  that  through  supernatural  power  they 
transcended  themselves  and  realised  the  holiness 
they  displayed.  Plato  felt  and  confessed  this  great 
truth.  In  the  Old  Testament  holy  men  declare 
that  they  were  movedj  uplifted,  and  sanctified  by 


A  Meditation  for  Pentecost        1 1 9 

file  Holy  Ghost.  The  Spirit  of  glory  and  of  God 
rested  upon  the  grandest,  sweetest,  and  purest 
One  of  all  our  race.  Out  of  the  overshadowing  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  according  to  His  human  nature, 
our  Lord  arose ;  at  the  commencement  of  His 
ministiy  the  Holy  Spirit  descended  upon  Him  ; 
and  through  the  eternal  Spirit  He  offered  Himself 
without  spot  unto  God.  The  apostles  acknow- 
ledge tliat  their  greatness  of  mind  and  heart,  their 
purity  of  spirit,  their  strength  and  tenderness,  their 
faith  and  charity,  their  joy  and  hope,  sprang  from 
the  Spirit  that  worked  in  them  mightily.  So  the 
brightest  characters  in  the  modern  world — the 
men  who  surprise  us  with  heroic  virtues,  the 
women  who  charm  us  with  gracious  goodness — 
testify  that  they  are  what  they  are  by  virtue  of 
the  indwelling  Spirit. 

When  the  lame  man  was  restored  at  the 
Beautiful  gate  of  the  temple,  all  the  people  ran 
together  greatly  wondering ;  "  and  when  Peter  saw 
it,  he  answered  unto  the  people.  Ye  men  of  Israel, 
why  marvel  ye  at  this  ?  or  why  look  ye  so  earnestly 
on  us,  as  though  by  our  own  power  or  holiness 
we  had  made  this  man  to  walk  ?  "  So  prophets, 
ajjostles,  martyrs,  and  saints  of  all  ages  address  a 
wondering  world :  \N'hy  look  ye  so  earnestly  on  us, 
as  though  by  our  own  power  or  holiness  we  attained 
high  levels,  suffered  sublime  sori'ows,  and  worked 


I20        A  Meditation  for  Pentecost 

glorious   deeds   of  faith   and   charity?     We   hare 
been  glorified  by  the  Spirit  of  God. 

A  famous  sceptic  gives  a  remarkable  testimony  to 
the  ghostly  quantity  in  human  life  :  "  Our  brains  are 
not  the  wisest  part  of  us.  In  the  great  moments 
of  life,  when  a  man  decides  upon  an  important 
step,  his  action  is  directed  not  so  much  by  any 
clear  knowledge  of  the  right  thing  to  do,  as  by  an 
inner  impulse — ^you  may  almost  call  it  an  instinct 
— proceeding  from  the  deepest  foundations  of  his 
being."  So  the  materialist  is  constrained  to 
recognise  in  human  life  impulses,  instincts,  forces, 
and  inspii'ations  of  which  no  account  can  be 
given  on  purely  material  grounds.  The  sceptic 
is  quite  right.  Our  brains  are  not  the  wisest  part 
of  us ;  our  conscience  is  not  the  truest  part ;  our 
heart  is  not  the  tenderest  part ;  our  will  is  not 
the  strongest  part  of  us :  there  is  a  diviner  some 
thing  or  One  besetting  us  behind  and  before, 
discovering  to  us  higher  truths,  wider  charities, 
rarer  purities  than  we  ourselves  know,  and 
strengthening  us  to  do  what  the  natural  man 
can  never  attain.  The  best  men  have  ever 
realised  most  cleax'ly  the  direct  action  of  God 
within  their  heart ;  and  what  the  materialistic 
p])iiosopher  dimly  discerns  as  an  instinct  proceed- 
ing from  the  deci)est  foundations  of  our  being 
they  know  to  be  the  voice  of  God  calling  them 


A  Meditation  for  Pentecost        1 2 1 

out   of  false   and   lower  pathways   into   the  way 
everlasting. 

Some  men  can  explain  their  goodness,  they  can 
give  an  exact  technical  account  of  their  vulues, 
they  can  specify  the  precise  reason  and  motive 
and  force  which  go  to  all  their  fine  doings ; 
but  such  goodness  is  entirely  like  the  hack-work 
artistry  that  can  be  so  fully  explained — no  one 
desires  any  explanation.  The  moral  perfection 
which  fascinates  the  world  by  its  exquisite  love- 
liness, its  noble,  modest  deeds  and  services,  its 
sweet  patience  imder  untold  sorrows,  its  splendid 
victories  over  temptation  and  sin,  and  its  quench- 
less courage  and  hope  —  this  does  call  for  ex- 
planation, we  long  to  know  its  source  and 
secret ;  and  there  is  but  one  explanation  of 
all  glorious  goodness  —  it  is  the  eternal  Spirit  of 
hght  and  love,  of  power  and  beauty,  revealing 
Himself  in  the  life  of  humanity.  If  necessity 
be  felt  for  bringing  in  a  supernatural  power  to 
account  for  the  Hamlet  of  Shakespeare,  the 
Transfiguration  of  Raphael,  or  the  Hallelujah 
Clioriis  of  Handel,  how  much  more  are  we  con- 
strained to  recognise  the  action  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
in  the  moral  grandeur  of  Moses,  in  the  saintliness 
of  St.  John,  in  the  magnanimity  of  St.  Paul, 
in  the  heroic  constancy  of  the  glorious  army 
of  martyrs,  in  the  splendid  truth  and  beauty  of 


122        A  Meditation  for  Pentecost 

myriads  of  humble  souls  who  in  spite  of  cruelly 
adverse  circumstances  shine  like  stars ! 

"  I  believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost."  Here  we  have 
•strong  consolation  and  good  hope  through  grace. 
I  believe  in  the  Spirit  of  revelation.  He  pui-ifies 
our  inner  vision,  purges  the  eyes  of  our  heart, 
enabling  us  to  see  the  upper  world,  the  saving 
ideals,  the  blue  distances.  Having  an  unction 
from  the  Holy  One  we  know  all  things.  I  believe 
in  the  Spirit  of  power.  Amid  all  the  weakness, 
anarchy,  and  failure  of  our  nature  we  trust  in 
His  mighty  energy  and  grace.  I  believe  in  the 
Spirit  of  perfecting.  The  Sj)irit  of  the  Lord 
changes  us  from  glory  into  glory.  With  this  divine 
Guest  in  our  heart  all  things  are  possible  ;  without 
Him  we  are  swallowed  up  in  dust  and  darkness. 

n.  The  continued  action  of  the  Spirit  of  God 

WITHIN  us  IS  largely  CONDITIONED  BY  OUR  FAITH- 
FULNESS. 

We  see  in  intellectual  men  that  the  force  and 
brightness  of  their  gifts  are  largely  affected  by 
their  conduct.  By  one  course  of  conduct  they 
preserve  their  genius  and  augment  its  force,  whilst 
by  another  they  just  as  certainly  dim  its  splendour, 
or  even  altogether  destroy  it.  So  with  moral  life 
and  spii'itual  gifts ;  everything  depends  upon  our 
faithfulness. 

The  senMial  temper  is   fatal   to  the  Spiiit's  in- 


A  Meditation  for  Pentecost        123 

dwelling.  "  Sensual,  having  not  the  Spirit."  Tliis 
is  the  broad  teaching  of  the  history  of  Samson,  and 
the  New  Testament  shows  how  the  lustings  of  the 
flesh  are  fatal  to  the  fine  influences  of  grace.  By 
sensual  thoughts  and  deeds  we  quench  the  spark 
of  heaven  as  we  do  fire  by  stones,  clay,  or  water. 
Let  us  side  with  the  Spirit  against  the  things  of 
uncleanness,  and  the  divine  flame  shall  lick  up  the 
dust  and  the  stones  and  the  water  in  the  trenches ; 
but  if  we  side  with  the  flesh  against  the  Spkit,  the 
vital  spark  is  extinguished.  Anger,  wrath,  vanity, 
and  voluptuousness  are  deadly  sins.  And  indul- 
gence in  gross  corruption  is  not  necessary.  A 
fire  can  be  put  out  by  a  little  chemical  spray  or 
dust  sooner  even  than  by  thick  clay,  and  the 
imagination  of  the  thoughts  of  the  heart  may  sadly 
darken  the  light  of  heaven  and  quench  its  glow  in 
our  bosom.  The  Spirit  of  God  is  the  Spirit  of 
absolute  eternal  purity ;  and  we  must  keep  the 
palace  of  the  brain,  the  sanctuary  of  the  heart, 
free  from  all  foulness.  With  fine  observation  and 
phrase  the  great  dramatist  writes  : 

This  guest  of  summer, 
The  temple-haunting  martlet,  does  approve 
By  his  loved  mansionry  that  the  heaven's  breath 
Smells  wooingly  here. 

But  if  the  swallow  haunts  only  a  sweet  and  delicate 
air,  how  untainted  must  be  the  atmosphere  of  the 


1 24       A  Meditation  for  Pentecost 

living  human  temple  wherein  dwells  the  Dove  of 
heaven !  We  do  ourselves  the  greatest  MTong 
whenever  we  permit  the  mind  even  for  an  hour 
to  brood  over  sullied  things,  whether  such  things 
belong  to  the  world  of  fiction  or  of  fact. 

The  secular  temper  is  fatal  to  the  Spirit's 
presence  and  action.  Worldliness  in  thought,  in 
desire,  or  in  enjoyment  is  directly  contrary  to  the 
mysterious  influences  shed  abroad  in  our  heart  by 
the  Holy  Ghost  given  unto  us.  It  is  remarkable 
that  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  the  two  recorded 
offences  committed  against  the  Holy  Spirit  spring 
from  the  secular  temper.  "But  a  certain  man 
named  Ananias,  with  Sapphira  his  wife,  sold  a 
possession,  and  kept  back  part  of  the  price."  The 
first  motive  would  seem  to  have  been  unselfish ; 
but  after  the  sale  of  the  land  and  the  receipt 
of  the  money  covetousness  arose  in  their  heart. 
The  love  of  money  seduced  them,  and  Satan 
filled  the  heart  that  had  been  moved  by  the 
Holy  Ghost.  "And  when  Simon  saw  that 
through  laying  on  of  the  apostles'  hands  the 
Holy  Ghost  was  given,  he  offered  them  money, 
saying.  Give  me  also  this  power,  that  on  whom- 
soever I  lay  hands,  he  may  receive  the  Holy 
Ghost.  But  Peter  said  unto  him.  Thy  money 
perish  with  thee."  I^ove  of  worldly  power  led 
Simon  to  the  verge  of  ruin.     The  sordid  thought  is 


A  Meditation  for  Pentecost        125 

hardly  compatible  with  the  scientist's  vocation,  the 
poet's  fancy,  or  the  painter's  genius ;  and  how 
entirely  antagonistic  is  it  to  the  action  of  the  Spirit 
of  God,  who  strives  to  produce  in  us  divine  gi*aces ! 
The  intellectual  life  demands  a  certain  detachment 
from  sordid  life,  also  a  constant  sacrifice  of  worldly 
pleasure  and  gain ;  and  this  is  far  more  necessary 
in  all  who  would  live  the  highest  life.  The  Spirit 
is  quenched  by  the  love  of  the  world.  The  ethereal 
fire  is  put  out  by  sordid  dust  as  it  is  by  sensual 
mire.  The  lust  of  the  eye  will  dim  it  as  does  the 
lust  of  the  flesh.  The  pride  of  life  chills  spiritual 
enthusiasm  as  sinful  actions  do.  To  seek  the 
honour  that  comes  from  men  instead  of  the  honour 
that  comes  from  God  is  to  reduce  the  whole 
temperature  of  our  spiritual  life.  Thousands  de- 
stroy the  best  inspirations  and  hopes  of  the  soul  by 
an  inordinate  devotion  to  material  things. 

The  temper  of  sadness  is  also  fatal  to  the  free 
action  of  the  sovereign  Spirit.  The  spark  of 
heaven's  fire  may  be  drowned  with  tears.  Sighs 
and  complaints  often  indicate  ingratitude,  selfish- 
ness, unbelief;  and  we  must  watch  and  pray 
against  these  pei-ilous  moods.  By  incessant  mur- 
murings  the  children  of  Israel  grieved  and  vexed 
the  Holy  Spirit ;  and  still  we  do  the  same.  Sadness 
is  sometimes  sin  of  the  worst  kind,  and  it  never 
fails  to  damp,  obscure,  and  choke  the  holy  fire. 


126        A  Meditation  for  Pentecost 

There  is  a  temper  of  suppression  that  is  fatal  to 
the  Spirit.  We  quench  a  fire  by  denying  it  atmo- 
spherCj  and  the  Spirit  is  quenched  by  denying 
Him  expression  and  fulfilment.  The  prophet  felt 
Him  as  a  "burning  fire"  shut  up  in  his  bones, 
urging  him  to  speak.  Said  St.  Paul,  "And  now, 
behold,  I  go  bound  in  the  spirit  to  Jerusalem." 
He  was  urged  by  an  internal  necessity  to  go  up  to 
Jerusalem.  So  are  we  prompted  by  the  Spirit  of 
God  to  speak,  to  give,  to  work,  to  pray,  to  aspire 
to  a  higher,  holier  life.  In  all  such  precious  hours 
let  us  give  Him  free  course.  If  He  gives  us  words, 
we  must  speak  them ;  if  He  prompts  to  noble 
deeds,  we  must  do  them;  if  He  calls  to  higher 
paths,  we  must  walk  in  them  ;  if  He  proffers  choicer 
blessings,  we  must  grasp  them ;  if  He  bestows 
richer  gifts,  we  must  exercise  them.  Acknow- 
ledge what  He  gives,  do  what  He  bids,  follow 
where  He  leads.  Otherwise  you  quench  the 
Spirit. 

There  is  a  slothful  temper  that  is  fatal  to  the 
Spirit's  grace.  St.  Paul  writes  to  Timothy,  "Stir 
up  the  gift  of  God  which  is  in  thee."  Literally, 
rekindle  the  spark.  Ah !  the  gift  that  is  in  us, 
that  is  the  glorious  thing.  We  are  often  looking 
outside  ourselves  for  treasures,  searching  heights 
and  depths  for  miraculous  things,  whilst  the 
grandest   gift   of  all    is   in    our   heart,   even   the 


A  Meditation  for  Pentecost        127 

Spirit  of  God  striving  to  endow  and  adom  us 
with  the  riches  of  eternity.  An  apostle's  hands 
have  not  been  laid  upon  us  ;  but  God's  hand  has, 
and  He  conferred  the  gift  of  a  purifying,  softening, 
transfiguring  fire.  "Stir  up  the  gift."  Elicit  it 
by  meditation,  kindle  it  by  prayer,  fan  it  by 
action,  feed  it  by  reading,  make  it  gleam  and 
glow  in  sacrament  and  song.  The  fire  may  go  out 
by  neglect.  And  such  neglect  need  not  be  pro- 
tracted. We  once  saw  a  conservatory  that  we 
shall  not  forget.  One  bitter  night  the  gardener 
neglected  the  fire,  and  what  havoc  was  wrought ! 
The  leaves  were  black,  everything  drooped,  the  rare 
blossoms  would  bloom  no  more.  For  a  few  hours 
the  fire  was  neglected  and  the  floral  treasures  were 
frost-bitten  beyond  redemption.  So  will  it  be  in 
our  personal  life  if  we  neglect  the  sacred  flame. 
"  The  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace,  long- 
suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meekness, 
temperance."  Rare  fruits  these !  but  for  their 
growth  and  perfecting  they  require  the  fervours  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  Everything  is  ours  if  the  Spirit 
is  ours ;  all  is  lost  if  by  neglect  and  wilfulness  we 
drive  Him  from  our  breast. 

"  O  God,  make  clean  our  hearts  within  us. 

And  take  not  Thy  Holy  Spirit  from  ub." 


XX 

DILIGENCE  IN  THE  CHRISTIAN 
LIFE 

Give  diligence  to  make  your  calling  and  election  Bnre.-> 
2  Pet.  i.  lo. 

The  apostle  reminds  us  of  our  calling  and  election 
in  Christ  to  holiness  and  heaven,  and  also  intimates 
that  the  realisation  of  this  appointed  greatness  and 
glory  is  contingent  upon  our  faithfulness.  God 
has  put  the  grandest  things  within  our  reach,  but 
we  may  lose  much  through  unfaithfulness,  nay,  we 
may  lose  all.  In  worldly  and  intellectual  circles 
men  deplorably  fail  to  fulfil  their  election ;  in  the 
largeness  of  their  mental  gifts  they  are  evidently 
the  predestinated  leaders  and  oi-naments  of  their 
generation,  yet  by  yielding  to  temptation,  sur- 
rendering themselves  to  inferior  pleasures  and 
pursuits,  their  magnificent  promise  comes  to  nought 
and  their  career  closes  in  melancholy  failure. 
Others  are  bom  into  privileged  families ;  they  in- 
herit titles  and  wealth,  are  called  by  the  fortune 

of  birth  to  be  social   princes,  and  are  manifestly 
128 


Diligence  in  the  Christian  Life     129 

elected  to  high  position  and  influence  ;  but  not  in- 
frequently do  these  predestinated  ones  througli  ill 
conduct  tarnish  their  coronet  and  finish  on  the 
dunghill.  As  in  the  intellectual  and  social  life,  so 
it  is  too  often  in  the  spiritual ;  souls  destined  for 
immortal  distinction  fail  through  sloth  and  sin  to 
make  their  election  sure.  God  has  called  us  to  be 
saints,  elected  us  to  His  eternal  glory ;  it  remains, 
however,  for  us  to  make  that  calling  effectual. 
Everything  depends  upon  our  faithfulness. 

We  must  be  diligent  to  cast  out  the  evil  things  that 
tve  Jtnd  in  ourselves.  Roots  of  bitterness  springing 
up  trouble  us,  and  it  is  not  easy  to  get  rid  of  them. 
The  Canadian  thistle  is  said  to  be  one  of  the 
direst  plagues  with  which  the  settler  has  to  con- 
tend. It  seems  impossible  to  extirpate  it.  It  is 
well  nigh  proof  against  the  most  desperate  efforts 
of  the  husbandman ;  fire,  poison,  and  the  knife 
have  only  a  temporary  effect  upon  its  vitality.  No 
scythe,  nor  hoe,  nor  plough  can  destroy  it.  Dug 
up,  burnt  up,  strewn  with  salt,  treated  with  aqua- 
fortis, covered  with  Ume,  it  springs,  blooms,  and 
seeds  anew.  Nothing  remains  but  to  blow  it  up 
with  dynamite.  The  roots  of  bitterness  in  our 
nature  are  at  least  equally  tenacious.  Our  faults 
are  so  deep  and  inveterate  that  we  must  bend  out 
whole  strength  to  the  task  of  their  elimination. 

We  must  give  diligence  to  bring  into  our  life  all 

SERIES  I.  9 


130     Diligence  in  the  Christian  Life 

good  and  beautiful  llihigs.  The  apostle  in  this 
passage  enjoins  us  to  add  one  virtue  to  another 
until  we  possess  and  display  them  in  full  complete- 
ness and  beauty.  It  is  not  enough  to  cultivate 
isolated  patches  of  life,  to  raise  this  grace  or  that ; 
we  must  bring  in  every  perfection  and  beautify 
the  whole  range  of  character  and  action.  Most 
gardeners  are  content  when  their  grounds  include 
only  a  few  floral  specimens  of  earth's  many  types 
and  climes ;  if  they  can  produce  a  fair  show  with 
these,  they  are  satisfied.  It  is  quite  different, 
however,  with  the  national  gardens  at  Kew ; 
there  the  aim  is  not  to  possess  even  a  profusion 
of  floral  treasures,  but  to  make  the  grounds  and 
conservatories  widely  representative,  comprehend- 
ing as  far  as  possible  eveiy  shrub,  tree,  and  flower 
that  grows  upon  the  face  of  the  earth.  The 
object  kept  steadily  in  view  by  the  authorities  is 
to  afford  the  student  an  opportunity  to  study  a 
specimen  of  the  infinite  vegetation  that  comes 
between  alpine  mosses  and  the  orchids  of  the 
tropics,  between  the  hyssop  on  the  wall  and  the 
cedars  of  Lebanon.  The  ideal  of  the  Kew  gardens 
must  be  the  ideal  of  the  Christian  life.  Too  often 
the  Christian  is  content  with  some  graces  of 
character  and  life,  whilst  the  New  Testament 
demands  every  moral  and  spiritual  perfection. 
**  Add  to  your  faith  vu*tue ;  and  to  virtue  know- 


Diligence  in  the  Christian  Life     131 

ledge ;  and  to  knowledge  temperance ;  and  to 
temperance  patience ;  and  to  patience  godliness ; 
and  to  godliness  brotherly  kindness;  and  to 
brotherly  kindness  charity."  The  paradises  of 
God  bear  all  manner  of  precious  fruit,  and  if 
our  heart  and  life  are  to  be  in  any  worthy  sense 
the  King's  gardens  we  shall  need  to  give  all 
diligence. 

Having  brought  all  good  things  into  our  life,  it 
is  only  by  diligence  that  we  keep  them  there.  "  If  ye 
do  these  things,  ye  shall  never  fall " — indicating 
the  tendency  and  peril  of  our  nature.  Constant 
diligence  and  culture  alone  can  hold  the  heights 
we  have  scaled,  the  fields  we  have  won,  the  ground 
we  have  reclaimed.  Neglect  a  beautiful  garden 
for  a  while,  and  savage  Nature  forthwith  avenges 
herself  and  spoils  your  paradise.  Nettles  and 
chickweed  smother  the  delicate  plants;  brambles 
annihilate  the  dainty  shrubs ;  the  glowing  roses 
die,  and  the  wild  stems  on  which  they  were 
grafted  triumph ;  the  fountain  becomes  a  slimy 
marsh  full  of  frogs  and  newts;  the  walks  are 
grass-grown,  and  the  lawns  choked  with  foreign 
weeds.  As  a  French  naturalist  points  out,  "  There 
is  in  nature  a  terrible  reaction  against  man ;  if  we 
put  our  hand  into  our  bosom,  the  garden  is  in 
revolt."  It  is  the  same  with  human  nature.  Slowly 
and  painfully  is  our  life   subdued  to  orderliness. 


132     Diligence  in  the  Christian  Life 

purity,  and  beauty;  but  it  instantly  springs  back 
if  we  relax  our  vigilance.  We  need  all  diligence 
to  cast  out  of  our  bi-east  the  bitter  root,  the  wild 
grape,  the  poisoned  gourd :  then,  having  brought 
good  things  into  our  life,  we  need  all  diligence  to 
convert  them  into  perfect  things ;  and  then  our 
utmost  diligence  is  taxed  to  preserve  our  fair  in- 
heritance from  degeneration,  from  the  locust,  the 
caterpillar,  and  the  pahner-v/orm 

"If  ye  do  these  things,  ye  siiall  never  fall." 
The  original  is  very  impressive  and  assuring :  "  Ye 
shall  not  fall  by  any  means  ever."  We  may  do 
our  best  in  the  worldly  sphere  and  fail — many 
a  meritorious  struggler  fails  to  reach  the  prize ; 
but  no  saint  does  his  best  and  fails.  Give  all 
diligence,  and  although  roughly  tossed  you  shall 
not  be  shipwrecked. 

'*  For  so  an  entrance  shall  be  administered  unto 
you  abundantly  into  the  everlasting  kingdom." 
When  Dr.  James  Hamilton  was  dying  he  said  to 
his  brother  who  was  standing  by,  "  William,  pray 
for  me."  "  For  what  shall  I  pray  ? "  said  the 
brother.  *'Pray  that  I  may  have  an  abundant 
entrance,"  replied  the  dying  saint.  How  grand 
indeed  such  an  entrance  !  No  weakness,  no  mis- 
giving, no  amazement. 

"  Give  all  diligence."  The  character  of  life's  end- 
ing is  largely  within  our  own  power ;  we  are  now 


Diligence  in  the  Christian  Life      133 

detei-mining  it.  The  measure  of  our  diligence 
is  the  measure  of  our  victoiy.  Every  well  spent 
hour  is  a  flower  for  our  dying  pillow ;  eveiy  earnest 
effort  to  please  God  is  so  much  sunshine  for  the 
dark  valley ;  every  mastered  temptation  summons 
another  angel  to  sing  in  the  chamber  where  the 
good  man  meets  his  fate. 


XXI 

THE  TWO  RECEPTIONS 

Luke  vii,  36-50. 

We  have  here  a  twofold  reception  of  Christ:  the 
reception  of  the  Pharisee,  or  the  reception  of 
Christ  into  the  house ;  the  reception  of  the  woman, 
or  the  reception  of  Christ  into  the  heart.  The 
Master  is  similarly  treated  to-day. 

I.  The  Pharisee  had  no  true  faith  in  Christ; 

THE    WOMAN    HAD. 

"And  He  went  into  the  Pharisee's  house,  and 
sat  down  to  meat."  Why  the  Pharisee  invited 
Christ  into  his  house  does  not  appear.  Carlyle 
said  that  if  Christ  had  visited  London  Monckton 
Milnes  would  have  asked  Him  to  breakfast.  The 
poet  was  so  fond  of  inviting  all  sorts  of  distinguished 
people  to  his  table,  caring  little  as  to  the  particular 
nature  of  their  distinction.  Perhaps  the  Pharisee 
had  a  similar  passion  for  coming  into  contact 
with  the  famous.  Whatever  might  be  the  motive, 
it  is  evident  that  Simon  had  no  genuine  faith  in 
his   guest.     The    thirty-ninth    verse    shows    that 

134 


The  Two  Receptions  135 

he  did  not  believe  in  Christ  as  a  prophet :  "  If 
He  were  a  prophet."  Simon  thought  that  Christ 
was  lacking  in  insight ;  yet  this  was  precisely 
what  he  himself  lacked.  He  had  sight,  and  could 
see  the  woman  that  was  a  sinner :  Christ  had 
insight,  and  could  see  the  woman  that  was  a 
conscious  sinner,  a  penitent  sinner,  a  pardoned 
sinner.  Simon  certainly  did  not  beUeve  in  Christ 
as  a  Saviour.  The  ecclesiastic  had  no  notion  of 
needing  a  Saviour.  He  could  see  the  woman  that 
was  a  sinner,  but  he  had  never  seen  the  man 
that  was  a  sinner,  although  he  had  so  often  looked 
into  the  glass.  And  not  having  known  himself  as 
a  sinner,  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  imderstand 
the  glorious  grace  of  Jesus  Christ.  Simon  failed 
altogether  to  comprehend  the  true  grandeur  of 
his  guest,  and  doubted  Him  whilst  he  entertained 
Him. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  woman's  reception  is 
that  of  sterling  faith.  She  was  a  sinner,  and  she 
knew  it.  In  presence  of  Christ's  awful  goodness 
she  realised  her  personal  miworthiness.  His  words 
had  touched  her  better  nature,  aroused  her 
conscience,  bowed  her  to  the  dust.  Precious, 
Indeed,  is  such  grief!  Legend  says  that  the 
pearls  of  the  sea  are  the  tears  that  our  first 
parents  shed  at  the  Fall ;  but  more  precious  than 
all  pearls  are  the  tears  of  a  godly  contrition,  for 


136  The  Two  Receptions 

they  win  again  the  paradise  we  lost.  Christ  was 
a  Saviour,  and  the  woman  knew  it.  She  had 
Insight  too,  and  knew  Christ  to  be  the  Saviour  of 
the  lost — knew  Him  to  be  her  Saviour.  Her  sin 
put  her  far  from  Christ,  but  she  felt  the  drawing, 
uplifting  grace.  The  beautiful  plant  that  had 
long  been  trailing  and  bleeding  in  the  dust  found 
a  strong  and  gracious  support  by  which  to  climb 
into  the  gloiy  of  the  upper  air.  Christ  therefore 
said  to  her,  "Thy  faith  hath  saved  thee."  True, 
she  never  spoke  a  word  the  whole  time;  yet 
it  is  equally  true  that  she  witnessed  a  good 
confession  before  many  witnesses.  Her  tears, 
salutations,  and  sacrifice  were  equivalent  to  the 
Apostles'  Creed,  the  Nicene  Creed,  and  every  other 
creed  in  which  the  Christian  world  has  sought  to 
express  its  faith.  She  believed  in  Christ  with  all 
her  heart — in  His  mercy,  His  merit,  His  might ;  and 
her  faith  was  counted  unto  her  for  righteousness. 

How  much  to-day  there  is  of  the  reception  of 
Christ  into  the  house  only !  The  faith  that 
permits  Him  to  cross  the  threshold  is  hesitating, 
superficial,  inadequate.  "  If  lie  were  a  prophet." 
Stupendous  "if"!  What  a  large  part  that  little 
word  plays  to-day !  Such  faith  will  not  save ; 
it  only  condemns  us.  We  must  receive  Christ 
into  our  heart,  giving  Him  our  utmost  confidence. 
We   must   understand   that   we   are   lost    without 


The  Two  Receptions  137 

Him ;  that  with  Him  we  are  saved  unto  the 
uttermost.  Let  us  not  stop  short  of  an  unreserved, 
affectionate  trust  in  Him.  Ask  not  Christ  into 
your  house  to  tolerate  Him,  to  question  Him,  to 
suspect  Him  ;  ask  Him  into  your  heart  by  a  hving 
faith  that  opens  wide  the  door,  and  He  shall  come 
in  and  make  a  feast  of  fat  things. 

n.  The  Pharisee  had  no  true  love  for  Christ; 

THE   WOMAN    HAD. 

Christ  makes  this  clear  to  Simon  in  verses  40-43. 
Love  is  the  consequence  of  the  sense  of  forgiveness  ; 
and  the  more  acute  the  sense  of  forgiveness, 
the  gi-eater  our  love  to  Him  who  forgives.  We 
love  because  we  are  forgiven ;  we  love  much 
because  we  are  forgiven  much.  Simon  knew 
nothing  of  all  this.  He  did  not  repent,  for  he 
had  no  consciousness  of  sin;  he  did  not  love,  for 
he  had  no  consciousness  of  forgiveness.  He  did 
not  feel  that  he  was  a  fifty-pence  debtor ;  he  did 
not  feel  that  he  was  a  twopence-halfpenny  debtor. 
He  asked  Christ  to  eat  with  him ;  but  it  was  a 
cold  collation.  His  divine  guest  turned  indig- 
nantly away  from  a  loveless  feast. 

The  woman's  reception  is  that  of  the  heart.  She 
treats  the  Master  right  worshipfully.  She  loves 
much  because  she  is  forgiven  much.  The  woman 
came  to  the  Saviour's  feet ;  we  feel  that  the  table 
was  between  Christ  and  Simon.     The  woman  gave 


138  The  Two  Receptions 

the  Master  tears,  kisses,  spices,  gems,  and  her  hair 
was  the  cloth  of  gold  with  which  she  wiped  the 
sacred  feet ;  Simon  gave  Him  salt.  The  woman 
loved  the  Lord  with  a  supreme  affection ;  Simon 
dismissed  the  dubious  visitant  with  chilling 
courtesy. 

Religion  is  worth  little  except  as  it  expresses 
the  deepest,  warmest,  strongest  sentiments  of  our 
heart.  Wonderful  is  love  always.  Love  makes  a 
plain  face  shine  like  the  face  of  an  angel ;  love 
gilds  a  cottage  home  as  no  gold  can ;  love  converts 
worthless  trifles  into  precious  heirlooms  —  a  few 
faded  letters,  a  lock  of  hair,  a  bit  of  ribbon  become 
jewels  when  they  have  received  love's  consecrating 
touch.  And,  above  all  things,  our  highest  life  must 
be  the  life  of  love.  True  religion  can  never  be  a 
matter  of  ceremony :  the  living  God  cannot  be 
satisfied  with  ceremonies  any  more  than  we  can. 
True  religion  can  never  be  a  matter  of  mere  taste : 
we  want  something  from  one  another  deeper  and 
diviner  than  flowers,  dress,  or  music,  and  we  are 
sure  that  God  does.  True  religion  can  never  be  a 
matter  of  knowledge :  no  dry  knowledge  will 
satisfy  the  hmigry  soul  of  man,  neither  can  the 
God  of  love  be  satisfied  with  the  best  intellectual 
appreciation.  True  religion  can  never  be  a  matter 
of  law :  no  earthly  father  would  be  satisfied  with 
obedience   without   love,   and   we    are    sure    the 


The  Two  Receptions  139 

heavenly  Father  cannot.  True  reUgion  can  never 
be  a  matter  of  policy  and  interest :  Marie  Bash- 
kirtsefF  said  tnily,  "  Commerce,  traffic,  speculation, 
are  honourable  words  when  properly  applied,  but 
they  are  infamous  when  applied  to  marriage " ; 
yes,  and  more  infamous  still  when  they  obtrude 
into  religion- 
Is  there  not  much  religion  to-day  suspiciously 
like  the  religion  of  the  Pharisee — a  matter  of  taste, 
knowledge,  ritual,  law,  interest,  but  not  of  love  ? 
It  will  not  do ;  Christ  will  disown  it,  as  He  did  the 
entertainment  of  Simon.  Our  religious  hfe  must 
be  full  of  wonder,  gratitude,  tenderness,  trust.  It 
is  only  when  we  love  God  because  He  first  loved  us 
that  we  know  true  religion. 

III.  The  Pharisee  made  no  real  sacrifices  for 
Christ;  the  woman  did. 

**  I  entered  into  tliine  house."  Does  not  Christ 
here  assert  Himself?  *'\" — majestic  personality! 
Simon,  altogether  failing  to  recognise  this  great- 
ness, did  the  very  least  for  his  glorious  guest. 
But  the  woman  received  Christ  with  a  self-renounc- 
ing heart.  She  "  brought  an  alabaster  box."  She 
gave  Him  the  costliest,  loveliest,  sweetest  thing  she 
had.  We  never  receive  Christ  truly  until  we  give 
Him  our  best. 

Is  there  not  much  religion  to-day  that  breathes 
little  of  the  spirit   of  sacrifice  and  consecration.? 


140  The  Two  Receptions 

Nothing  really  is  given  up  for  Christ's  sake  ;  noth- 
ing in  substance,  time,  popularity,  or  feeling.  We 
justly  measure  the  value  of  all  things  by  the  degree 
of  sacrifice  which  enters  into  them.  Even  in  trade 
this  principle  unconsciously  asserts  itself.  The 
pearl  is  so  precious  because  the  diver  has  put  his 
life  into  peril  to  secure  it.  The  orchid  is  so  costly 
because  the  explorer  has  dared  dangerous  forests 
and  swamps  to  possess  it.  The  diamond  is  reserved 
for  the  king's  crown  because  its  recovery  from  the 
secret  mine  involved  unknown  effort  and  sacrifice. 
So  all  through  the  catalogue  of  costliest  things. 
And  in  the  social  world  this  principle  asserts  itself 
even  more  distinctly.  We  hold  hghtly  the  cheap 
courtesies  of  conventional  life  ;  we  begin  to  esteem 
attentions,  actions,  gifts,  as  they  imply  thought, 
effort,  and  denial  on  the  part  of  him  who  offers 
them.  Motherhood  glows  into  the  sublimest  re- 
lation because  it  implies  the  largest  sacrifice. 
And  surely  this  thought  must  come  into  religion. 
Our  discipleship  becomes  significant  as  it  in- 
volves somewhat  of  the  infinitely  self-renouncing 
spirit  of  oiu*  Master.  What  are  we  prepared  to 
endure,  to  give,  to  effect  in  the  cause  of  our  Lord 
and  for  the  love  of  our  Lord  ?  The  religion  that 
costs  nothing  is  worth  exactly  what  it  costs. 

Does  anyone  object  that  this  teaching  is  danger- 
ous— that  whilst  the  narrative  is  full  of  a  strange 


The  Two  Receptions  141 

beauty,  it  seems  to  give  a  tacit  sanction  to  im- 
morality? Let  us  frankly  say  that  it  does  seem 
dangerous,  and  that  people  may  read  the  story 
with  pardonable  uneasiness.  It  is  nevertheless 
the  truest  and  highest  teaching.  The  most  skilful 
surgeon  is  the  one  who  comes  nearest  the  vital  spot 
without  touching  it,  who  saves  Ufe  by  nearly  taking 
it.  Christ's  treatment  of  sin  is  much  like  this; 
He  saves  virtue  by  the  subtle  and  sublime  process 
in  which  He  seems  to  put  it  in  jeopardy.  He 
boldly  sets  forth  living  faith  and  love  against  dead 
respectability,  knowing  that  the  pure  affection  of 
the  heart  is  the  essence  of  righteousness  and  its 
best  guarantee. 

A  word  to  those  who  occupy  the  place  of  Simon. 
You  have  not  shut  your  door  on  Christ,  you  are  not 
an  atheist  or  a  sensualist,  you  are  in  some  sense  a 
disciple ;  but  you  have  not  gone  farther  than  to 
open  the  door  of  your  house.  You  feel  that  you  pat- 
ronise Christ  rather  than  that  Christ  honours  you  ; 
you  question  Him  more  than  you  trust  Him ; 
you  give  Him  something — you  do  not  give  Him 
yourself.  Anything  less  than  faith  and  affection  is 
to  come  short  of  the  great  salvation. 

A  word  to  the  sinner.  Be  full  of  hope.  Christ 
knows  the  badness  of  the  good.  He  saw  the  bad- 
ness of  that  good  man  Simon,  the  stains  after  all  his 
washings,  the  hollowness  of  his  heart,  the  unreality 


142  The  Two  Receptions 

of  his  righteousness,  his  pride,  selfishness,  and  un- 
belief. Christ  knows  the  goodness  of  the  bad.  He 
saw  the  modesty,  contrition,  and  aspiration  of  the 
woman,  and  made  her  clean  eveiy  whit,  a  lilj  for 
the  bosom  of  God. 


XXII 
POINTS  OF  DEPARTURE 

And  turn  ye  not  aside. — i  Sam.  xii.  zi. 

Samuel  assumes  that  the  true  path  was  clear 
before  Israel ;  it  knew  its  calling  and  destiny. 
Other  nations  might  fulfil  their  special  election 
without  understanding  very  distinctly  what  that 
election  was ;  but  Israel  understood  its  mission, 
saw  as  in  the  light  of  noonday  the  path  it  should 
pursue.  To  love  God  alone  and  to  serve  Him  was 
the  simple  royal  pathway.  "And  thou  shalt  not 
go  aside  from  any  of  the  words  which  I  command 
thee  this  day,  to  the  right  hand,  or  to  the  left,  to 
go  after  other  gods  to  serve  them."  And  Samuel 
here  reminds  the  people  that  the  imminent  danger 
was  not  that  they  would  execute  a  right-about  and 
go  back  to  Egypt,  but  that  they  should  turn  aside. 
So  the  grand  path  of  life  is  clearly  discovered  to  us. 
To  know,  to  love,  to  serve  God  with  all  our  heart 
and  mind  and  soul  and  strength — here  is  the  way 
in  which  we  should  walk.  And  our  great  danger 
Is  not  that  we  should  suddenly  wheel  about,  but 

148 


144  Points  of  Departure 

that  we  should  deflect  Uttle  by  little.  Let  us  note 
these  points  of  departure  from  a  higher  to  a  lower 
life — from  faith  to  unbelief,  spiiutuality  to  worldli- 
ness,  purity  to  laxity  and  immorality. 

1.  These  points  of  departure  are  w«/«ero?«.  Many 
are  the  gracious  opportujuties  given  to  men  who 
seek  to  rise  in  character ;  veiy  varied  mdeed  are 
the  events  and  circumstances  which  challenge 
the  soul  to  a  new  or  a  more  earnest  life.  Men 
begin  to  live  afresh,  to  live  a  better  and  still  better 
life,  prompted  by  most  diverse  occasions  :  successes, 
failures,  joys,  soxtows,  new  positions,  new  duties, 
new  relations,  all  kinds  of  events  and  incidents 
become  to  aspiring  souls  propitious  starting-points 
for  a  higher  life.  On  the  other  side,  from 
all  kinds  of  happenings  men  begin  to  gravitate. 
Indeed,  the  very  circumstance  which  conduces  in 
one  individual  to  quickened  religious  feeling,  in 
another  diminishes  and  destroys  such  feeling. 
Beginning  school  awakes  in  one  child  a  higher 
sense,  whilst  for  another  it  is  the  loss  of  innocence 
and  the  beginning  of  evil,  proving,  as  Michelet 
writes,  that  the  real  fall  is  the  day  when  a  boy 
leaves  his  mother.  Leaving  school  initiates  one 
youth  into  a  more  serious,  manly  life,  whilst 
another  takes  advantage  of  the  change  to  relax 
discipline  and  begins  to  play  a  baser  part.  A 
change    of   residence    or   situation   leads   one   to 


Points  of  Departure  145 

greater  devotion  and  circumspection,  whilst  another 
from  that  time  forward  is  distinctly  poorer  in  cha- 
racter, the  change  destroying  old  habits  of  good. 
Marriage  proves  a  truly  golden  day  in  the  life 
of  some — the  beginning  of  higher  thought,  love, 
and  purpose  ;  for  others  the  same  event  is  alto- 
gether disastrous  to  their  moral  and  religious  life. 
After  Methuselah  was  born,  Enoch  his  father 
walked  with  God  ;  and  often  since  then  the  birth 
of  children  has  been  the  occasion  of  deeper 
spiritual  life  in  the  father  and  mother,  whilst  just 
as  certainly  in  other  instances  the  little  children 
have  marked  the  epoch  of  an  increased  worldliness 
in  the  parents.  Bereavement  is  often  felt  as  a  call 
heavenward ;  but  we  also  see  the  bereaved  sink, 
sometimes  sink  fast  and  far,  through  the  loss  of 
a  parent,  friend,  husband,  or  wife.  Events  are 
always  happening  which  are  occasions  of  the  rising 
or  falling  of  souls,  and  herein  lies  the  real  serious- 
ness of  life.  Every  day  brings  its  possibilities  of 
sinking  to  a  lower  plane.  The  danger  of  the 
railway  is  with  the  "  facing  points "  ;  in  human 
life  also  we  are  ever  encountering  these  points. 
The  danger  comes  from  opposite  directions. 
*'  Thou  shalt  not  go  aside  ...  to  the  right  hand,  or 
to  the  left."  Prosperity  may  prove  an  opening  to 
a  lower  life ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  misfortune. 
Intellect  may  become  a  snare  to  us,  or  the  flesh. 
SERIES  ^  10 


146  Points  of  Departure 

We  may  suffer  from  society  or  from  solitude. 
Pleasure  may  debase  us,  or  self-denial  superinduce 
a  most  unlovely  pharisaism.  Directly  opposite 
phases  of  experience  and  circumstance  prove 
equally  fatal.  So  vigilance  must  ever  be  main- 
tained, lest  we  suffer  in  clearness  of  vision,  in 
fineness  of  feeling,  or  in  perfect  sincerity — lest  our 
ideal  should  be  depressed  or  obscured,  and  there 
should  be  found  in  us  "  an  evil  heart  of  unbelief  in 
departing  from  the  living  God." 

2.  These  points  of  depai-ture  are  slight.  We 
do  not  go  off  at  an  acute  angle,  or  down  a  steep 
incline,  leading  right  away  from  the  Christian 
course  ;  we  simply  get  a  little  wrong,  and  this  may 
end  with  ruin.  The  Israelites  did  not  begin  with 
building  heathenish  altars  in  their  temple,  and 
by  making  their  children  pass  through  the  fire; 
they  ended  there.  They  began  their  idolatrous 
course  with  delicate  compliances,  gentle  conces- 
sions, which  they  would  confidently  declare  were 
matters  of  entire  indifference.  The  first  depar- 
ture from  God  is  of  really  tremendous  significance, 
and  yet  it  may  appear  absolutely  trifling.  The 
descent  into  error  is  rarely  violent.  We  speak  of 
men  falling  into  error,  but  more  commonly  they 
slide  into  it.  There  are  many  plausible  inter- 
mediate systems  and  soft  transitions  by  which  we 
are  let  down  into  deadly  error.      There  are  half- 


Points  of  Departure  147 

way  houses  to  superstition.  Thousands  of  people 
have  utterly  lost  a  living,  evangelical  faith  and 
embraced  all  the  deadly  errors  of  Rome  through 
the  beguiling  action  of  intermediatej  graduated 
systems  of  worship  and  teaching.  There  are  half- 
way houses  to  infidelity.  These  resting-places 
on  the  path  to  the  atheistic  goal  were  never 
more  numerous  or  more  cleverly  pitched  than 
to-day.  There  are  sanctuaries  where,  instead  of 
nails  being  fastened  in  sure  places,  they  are 
ingeniously  loosened.  There  are  teachers  who 
speciously  teach  their  congregations  to  doubt 
eveiything  except  doubt.  There  is  a  Uterature 
which  deftly  saps  solemn  convictions,  and  which, 
like  the  thief  in  the  night,  despoils  men  of  a  faith 
infinitely  more  precious  than  gold.  The  "down 
grade "  in  belief  is  a  masterpiece  of  engineering, 
and  many  who  follow  it  are  all  the  time  uncon- 
scious of  any  declination.  The  lapse  into  worldliness 
is  usually  a  process  of  fine  shadings  off.  The 
exquisite  sensibilities  of  the  soul  are  lost  a  nerve 
at  a  time.  The  inner  eye  grows  dim  imperceptibly. 
The  splendid  enthusiasm  of  a  supreme  love  dies 
away  as  the  summer  glow  dies  into  the  winter 
through  the  beguiling  gradations  of  a  long  autumn. 
The  "little  rift"  in  the  lute  slowly  widening  stills 
the  music ;  but  that  rift  is  never  more  subtle  and 
slow  than  it  is  in  the  lute  which  makes  musicjil 


148  Points  of  Departure 

the  hearts  and  lives  of  righteous  men.  Worship  is 
not  abandoned ;  it  first  becomes  an  enforced  and 
mutilated  ceremony.  Prayer  is  not  repudiated, 
only  reduced.  The  old  religious  companionships 
are  dropped,  one  hardly  knows  how.  Without 
startling  shock  or  alarming  sign  a  man's  whole 
being  may  be  coarsened,  and  he  imconsciously 
sinks  into  a  life  of  greed,  appetite,  or  vanity. 
The  descent  into  wickedness  is  equally  gentle. 
The  beginning  of  sin  is  always  obscure.  The 
point  where  prudence  passes  into  selfishness, 
where  laudable  aspiration  degenerates  into  ambi- 
tion, where  true  pleasure  becomes  indulgence, 
where  self-respect  lapses  into  pride — that  point  is 
seen  by  God's  eye  alone.  Who  can  discern  or 
define  the  point,  the  moment,  where  and  when  the 
legal  becomes  the  illegal,  the  upright  begins  to 
slant,  and  the  soul  first  warped  falls  away  from  its 
integrity  ?  Insidious  are  the  beginnings  of  eviL 
The  agents  of  darkness,  as  our  poet  sa3's. 

Win  us  with  honest  trifles,  to  betray  us 
In  deepest  consequence. 

The  slow  and  subtle  way  in  which  practical 
iniquity  takes  shape  is  one  of  the  tragedies  of  life. 
M.  Joly  has  recorded  the  experience  of  the  police 
concerning  the  thefts  that  take  place  at  the  great 
Parisian  shops.     "  This  is  the  beginning.     From  a 


Points  of  Departure  149 

gallery  one  sees  a  woman — rich  or  well-to-do — ■ 
who  buys  a  certain  number  of  objects  and  pays  for 
them;  but  without  asking  permission  she  takes 
some  little,  almost  insignificant,  object — a  little 
ribbon  to  fasten  a  parcel,  a  more  commodious 
paper  bag.  No  one  will  say  she  is  stealing  ;  no  one 
will  think  of  speaking  to  her  or  disturbing  her. 
But  she  is  observed,  and  even  watched ;  for  one 
expects  to  see  her  again  some  time  after  taking,  as 
she  walks  along,  say,  a  flower  worth  twenty-five 
centimes.  A  little  later  she  will  appropriate  an 
article  of  greater  value,  and  henceforth  she  will 
take  for  the  pleasure  of  taking."  ^  Amid  the 
glaciers  of  the  Alps  an  explosion  is  sometimes 
heard  announcing  the  birth  of  a  crevasse.  At  first 
the  young  fissure  is  almost  too  slight  to  be  seen, 
and  at  no  place  is  it  wide  enough  to  admit  a  knife- 
blade.  But  the  almost  imperceptible  fracture 
eventually  becomes  a  gaping,  impassable  chasm. 
So  is  it  when  we  break  with  good  ;  the  great  gulf 
fixed  between  the  lost  and  paradise  began  in  a 
flaw  hardly  to  be  discerned. 

3.  These  points  of  departure  are  specious.  It 
seems  in  the  hour  of  temptation  as  if  we  should 
secure  a  great  advantage  by  departing  from  a 
strict,  literal  fidelity  to  the  path  of  duty.  When 
Israel   first   dabbled   with   idolatry,  they   had   no 

^  The  Criminal,  by  Huvulock  Ellis. 


1 50  Points  of  Departure 

thought  of  renouncing  God.  They  imagined  that 
certain  advantages  were  to  be  gained  by  inter- 
course wdth  idolatrous  nations^  and  that  such 
advantages  might  be  secured  without  losing  in  any 
measure  the  blessing  of  Jehovah.  These  idolatrous 
nations  were  the  ancient  nations,  the  dominant 
nations^  the  intellectual  nations,  the  commercial 
nations ;  and  Israel  felt  how  desirable  it  was 
to  maintain  intercourse  and  alliance  with  these 
splendid  empires,  always,  of  course,  keeping  them- 
selves free  from  the  idols,  vices,  and  crimes  of 
Egyptian,  Babylonian,  and  Assyrian.  It  was  a 
very  tempting  position ;  it  seemed  an  act 
of  statesmanship  to  secure  such  alliances ;  and 
dazzled  by  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  and  the 
glory  of  them,  Israel  forgot  to  worship  the  Lord 
their  God  and  to  serve  Him  only.  They  became 
worse  than  the  heathen. 

Very  specious  still  are  many  of  the  things  which 
draw  us  from  God.  We  see  a  brother  who  has  lost 
faith  in  all  the  grandest  truths  of  life,  who  has  sunk 
into  black  and  universal  scepticism.  What  in  all 
probability  was  the  point  of  departure  here  ?  The 
claims  and  sufficiency  of  human  reason.  And  how 
much  is  to  be  said  for  the  rights  of  reason  !  The 
point  of  departure  to  world!  in  ess  is  often  similarly 
specious.  Care  for  his  family — this  is  the  reason 
why  Demas  abates  his   religious  enthusiasm  and 


Points  of  Departure  151 

applies  himself  to  business.  James  Hinton  said, 
« Wishing  to  tempt  an  Englishman,  the  devil 
generally  appears  in  the  shape  of  the  man's  wife 
and  family."  And  how  plausible  he  is  in  this 
shape !  How  much  is  to  be  said  for  prudence  and 
diligence  !  The  point  of  departure  to  sensuality  is 
often  equally  specious  and  seductive.  It  is  a  love 
of  good  things;  and  how  much  is  to  be  said  for 
such  an  appreciation !  Yet  just  here  sets  ia 
the  rot !  Oh,  very  rational,  promising,  enticing 
seem  those  openings  which  lead  to  a  lower  life ! 
This  is  what  Shakespeare  meant  when  he  wrote : 

But  'tis  strange: 
And  oftentimes,  to  win  us  to  our  harm, 
The  instruments  of  darlcness  tell  us  truths. 

*At  Bypath  meadow  Christian  said  to  Hopeful, 
'If  tliis  meadow  lieth  along  by  our  wayside,  let's 
go  over  into  it.'  Then  he  went  to  the  stile  to  see, 
and  behold  a  path  lay  along  by  the  way  on  the 
other  side  of  the  fence.  'Here  is  the  easiest 
going,'  said  he  ;  *let  us  go  over.' "  Many  paths  on 
the  other  side  of  the  fence  seem  to  run  parallel  Avith 
Christian  principle  and  doctrine,  and  yet  they 
lead  to  death.  The  fence  may  be  very  narrow. 
Andrew  Bonar  writes :  "  Often  I  have  wondered 
that  I  did  not  feel  the  temptations  of  Satan  more 
frequently   and  plainly.     But  now   I  discover   his 


152  Points  of  Departure 

plan.  For  a  long  time,  indeed  for  years,  I  can  see 
that  he  has  contrived  very  many  days  to  prevent 
my  praying  to  any  purpose.  His  temptations  to 
rae  lie  in  the  direction  of  putting  half-lawful 
literature  or  literary  work  before  me,  which  I  am 
led  on  to  read  at  once,  without  having  first  of  all 
fully  met  with  God.  In  short,  he  succeeds  in 
reversing  in  my  case,  'Seek  first  the  kingdom  of 
God.'  "  Here,  indeed,  are  the  pov»'er  and  peril  of 
temptation  to  so  many  of  us — temptations  to  "  half- 
lawful"  things.  We  are  drawn  aside  by  objects 
for  which  much  is  to  be  said :  they  are  innocent 
things,  important  things,  praiseworthy  things ;  yet 
in  some  way  or  other  they  seduce  from  higher 
duties,  they  damp  our  devotion  to  the  highest 
ideal  of  all.  We  are  mystified  and  misled  by  the 
.s})ecious  action  of  half-lawful  things,  when  things 
palpably  unlawful  would  not  attract  us  at  all. 

4.  These  points  of  departure  are  always  senous. 
Even  if  they  do  not  lead  us  altogether  astray 
or  far  astray,  turnings  aside  are  great  evils.  A 
tree  grows  so  grandly  because  without  vagary  it 
develops  itself  according  to  its  nature ;  the  flower 
is  so  glorious  because  it  concentrates  itself  on  bud 
and  blossom ;  the  bee  is  so  rich  in  honey  because  it 
follows  the  shortest  line :  and  if  we  are  to  attain 
wealth  and  glory  of  character  we  must  avoid 
lapses,  eccentricities,  obliquities,  waste  of  time  and 


Points  of  Departure  153 

power  by  diversions  and  repentances.  But  these 
branchings  off  from  the  King's  highway  may  lead  to 
utter  ruin.  Many  a  lost  soul  says :  I  got  wrong 
there,  at  that  point,  at  that  time,  in  that  manner, 
through  that  thought  or  circumstance.  What 
seemed  at  the  moment  immaterial  turns  out  to 
have  been  a  pivot-point  determining  an  im- 
mortality. 

All  wanderings  of  heart  or  life  begin  in  a  lack  of 
fiiith  either  in  the  prize  or  in  the  path.  Let  us 
keep  alive,  then,  an  ardent  faith  in  the  grand  prize 
of  life.  "Earnestly  desiring  to  be  clothed  upon 
with  our  house  which  is  from  heaven,"  says  the 
apostle.  Let  us  see  vividly  the  grand  aim  of  life, 
and  earnestly  desire  to  reach  it,  and  we  shall  not 
deflect  from  the  straight  line.  A  weaker  faith  in 
God,  a  cooling  enthusiasm  in  His  service,  and 
how  soon  the  feet  turn  aside !  If  the  sojourner 
wanders  when  he  begins  to  lose  faith  in  the  path, 
let  us  hve  in  the  full  assurance  that  the  only  path 
to  the  highest  is  in  the  loyal  love  and  service  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Any  departure  from  His  spirit, 
commandment,  or  service  is  a  departure  from  the 
way  everlasting.  There  was  no  way  for  Israel  to 
strength,  safety,  and  happiness  except  in  the 
knowledge  and  service  of  the  true  and  living  God ; 
and  the  same  path  invites  our  feet.  "And  we 
know  that  the  Son  of  God  is  come,  and  hath  given 


1 54  Points  of  Departure 

us  an  understandings  that  Ave  may  know  Him  that 
is  true,  and  we  are  in  Him  that  is  true,  even  in 
His  Son  Jesus  Christ.  This  is  the  true  God,  and 
eternal  Hfe.  Little  children,  keep  yourselves  from 
idols.  Amen."  We  are  in  the  King's  highway. 
Let  us  know  henceforth  no  points  of  departure 
except  for  those  higher  i*anges  of  attainment  and 
vision  which  it  pleases  God  by  His  Spiiit  and  in 
His  Son  to  reveal  to  us.  Each  new  day  affords 
fresh  impulses  and  opportunities  to  reach  those 
unveiled  heights.  Life  is  not  like  a  suddenly 
twisted  kaleidoscope  which  at  every  turn  discloses 
startling  scenery,  events,  and  experiences ;  still, 
there  will  not  be  a  day  without  its  stepping- 
stones  to  higher  things,  and  there  will  be  critical, 
privileged  days  bringing  memorable  chances  and 
inspiration. 


XXIII 
SEEN  AND  LOST 

Caught  up  into  paradise. — z  Cor.  zH.  4. 

In  a  chapter  with  this  title  a  gifted  naturalist  en- 
larges upon  the  fact  that  the  student  of  nature  has 
privileged  moments  in  which  he  beholds  rare  forms 
of  life  and  beauty  ;  but  from  one  cause  or  another 
he  fails  to  secure  the  prize,  never  perhaps  to 
encounter  again  the  coveted  thing.  The  explorer 
di-iftmg  down  the  stream  in  a  canoe  is  mocked  by 
glimpses  of  rare  flowers  not  destined  to  reappear ; 
or  he  is  surprised  by  a  wonderful  butterfly  which 
gives  him  the  slip  in  the  tangle  of  the  brush ;  or 
some  bird  long  sought  after  is  seen  ahghting  on 
the  bough,  only  to  vanish  like  an  apparition. 

Have  we  not  a  somewhat  similar  spiritual  experi- 
ence ?  Our  deeper  life  also  has  its  privileged 
moments  in  which  it  is  startled  and  excited  by  rare 
visions.  We  occasionally  see  great  doctrines,  facts, 
and  ideals  in  a  light  so  clear  and  commanding  that 
it  jjartakes  of  the  nature  of  a  revelation.     They 

never    before   appeared   to   us  with   nearly  such  a 
us 


156  Seen  and  Lost 

fulness  of  evidence  and  delight^  and  it  is  improbable 
that  such  an  experience  can  be  common.  What 
surprisingly  clear  thoughts  of  God  we  occasionally 
get — of  His  existence,  His  perfection.  His  love  1 
How  the  certainty  and  faithfulness  of  the  divine 
government  sometimes  flasli  upon  us,  and  we  real- 
ise with  rapture  that  we  are  enfolded  in  a  loving, 
minute  watchfulness  that  will  save  to  the  utter- 
most !  How  the  ideal  of  character  has  once  and 
again  burst  upon  us,  and  we  recognise  with  inex- 
pressible delight  our  high  calling  in  Christ  Jesus ! 
How  the  efficacy  of  Christ's  death  and  the  virtue  of 
His  sanctifying  grace  have  on  memorable  occasions 
come  home  to  us  with  overwhelming  force  !  How 
easy  in  rare  moments  it  has  been  to  believe  in 
immortality !  These  truths,  ideals,  and  hopes  no 
longer  appear  nebulous  and  dubious  ;  they  shine  out 
in  the  consciousness,  definite,  certain,  blessed  beyond 
any  power  of  language  to  utter.  The  astronomer 
finds  that  only  on  a  few  days  of  the  year  is  the 
atmosphere  perfectly  clear  and  the  most  delicate 
astronomic  observations  possible,  and  rare  are  the 
moments  when  the  eternal  secrets  shine  full  on  the 
soul. 

We  are  ready  to  blame  ourselves  because  we  fail 
to  retain  exceptionally  great  moments.  The  artist 
is  annoyed  because  he  did  not  get  that  delicious 
bit   of  scenery,  that    face    that   cottage,  into   his 


Seen  and  Lost  157 

sketch-book ;  the  musician  blames  himself  because 
he  neglected  to  note  the  wondrous  chord  he  so 
felicitously  struck ;  the  orator  is  filled  with  chagrin 
because  he  did  not  promptly  secure  the  exquisite 
phrase  he  can  no  more  recall ;  and  in  the  higher  life 
we  are  troubled  because  we  fail  to  fix  and  per- 
petuate great  moments  of  thought  and  feeling. 
We  grieve  because  we  cannot  cage  the  bird  that 
suddenly  sings  in  our  brain — because  we  cannot 
pin  the  glowing  thought  that  swims  through  the 
sou!  as  a  rich  butterfly  through  the  summer. 
Is  there  not  a  great  purpose  and  blessing  in 
these  elusive  insights  and  moods .''  We  say  "  lost," 
but  are  they  lost ,''  Are  they  not  more  to  us  than 
the  thoughts  we  manage  to  imprison  in  definitions  ? 
The  naturalist  gets  a  good  deal  out  of  the  things 
seen  and  lost.  The  stuffed  bnd  is  a  dingy  creature, 
the  impaled  butterfly  loses  the  magical  lustre  of 
life,  the  rare  lizard  once  bottled  is  commonplace 
enough ;  but  things  seen  and  lost  preserve  their 
mystery  and  splendour  through  all  the  years — they 
make  the  naturalist  a  poet,  they  keep  him  in  fellow- 
ship with  the  glorious  infinite  and  unknown.  So 
things  seen  and  lost  constitute  the  best  treasure  of 
the  spiritual  man ;  the  lost  chord  gives  a  deeper 
meaning  to  all  familiar  music  ;  if  we  are  caught  up 
into  paradise  for  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  all  ordin- 
ary truths  and  experiences  gain  vitality  and  forcei 


158  Seen  and  Lost 

Goethe  avers  that  no  one  would  stand  to  look  "  at 
a  rainbow  that  shone  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  "  : 
the  charai  of  the  rainbow  is  in  its  mysteiy  and 
transientness  ;  and  the  rare  lights  of  the  soul  axe 
exceedingly  precious. 


XXIV 
CALLING  AND  CHARACTER 

Brethren,  let  every  man,  wherein  he  is  called,  therein  abide 
with  God. — I  Cor.  vii.  24. 

The  peculiar  action  of  a  man's  calling  upon  his 
character  is  a  subject  worthy  of  consideration. 
We  are  satisfied  that  our  surroundings  do  not 
necessarily  determine  our  character,  as  environ- 
ment directly  and  indirectly  determines  the  hues 
of  the  chameleon  or  the  colour  of  the  bird ;  but 
it  is  impossible  to  ignore  the  fact  that  the  vocations 
we  pursue  really  affect  our  deeper  life.  Each  depart- 
ment of  human  duty  has  its  own  atmosphere^  its 
own  climate,  and  exercises  a  definite  influence  upon 
the  thought  and  character  of  those  who  breathe 
and  act  within  it.  All  callings  are  not  alike  in 
moral  significance,  leaving  no  place  for  special 
precaution  and  culture ;  they  greatly  differ  in 
their  incidence,  and  in  peculiar  ways  exercise 
and  imperil  the  soul. 

Professional  life  has  its  own  traditions,  associa- 
tions, and  influences  which  are  sometimes  felt  to 

169 


l6o  Calling  and  Character 

be  tr^^ing  to  Christian  principle  and  dangerous 
to  Christian  character.  In  the  letters  of  the 
distinguished  French  adA'^ocate  Frederic  Ozanam  a 
passage  occurs  which  reveals  the  j>erplexities  that 
the  legal  profession  brings  to  a  genume  Christian 
man.  After  speaking  of  "this  worthy  profession 
of  advocate,"  he  proceeds :  "And  yet  I  will  confess 
to  you  that  these  so  rare  preoccupations  weigh 
upon  me.  I  cannot  acclimatise  myself  in  the 
atmosphere  of  chicanery.  There  is  no  cause  so 
good  that  there  are  not  reciprocal  wrongs ;  there 
is  no  plea  so  loyal  that  some  weak  points  must  not 
be  hidden.  There  exist  habits  of  hyperbole  and 
reticence  of  which  the  most  respectable  members 
of  the  bar  give  the  example,  and  to  which  one 
must  submit  oneself;  all  the  figures  of  rhetoric  are 
reduced  into  action  before  the  tribunals  which 
only  understand  this  language.  It  is  agreed  that 
one  must  ask  two  hundred  francs  damages  when 
one  desires  fifty,  that  the  client  cannot  fail  to  be 
right  in  all  his  allegations,  and  that  the  adversary 
is  a  fool.  Explain  yourself  in  terms  more  reason- 
able, you  pass  for  having  made  concessions,  you 
have  avowed  yourself  vanquished,  your  colleagues 
reproach  you  with  it,  your  client  pretends  himself 
betrayed ;  and  if  you  meet  in  the  world  one  of  the 
judges  who  sat  in  tlie  afHiir,  he  will  accost  you  with 
saying,  *My  dear  fellow,  you  are  too  timid.'"     So 


Calling  and  Character  l6l 

the  Christian  lawyer  felt  his  calling  threatening  to 
the  delicacy  of  conscience.  The  physician  is  not 
without  his  trials.  Dr.  Garth  Wilkinson  speaks  of 
that  "  coi'poral  cnielty  which  is  a  danger "  in  his 
profession.  And  it  requires  little  imagination  to 
undei*stand  that  the  study  of  morhid  phenomena, 
the  practice  of  surgery,  the  secrecy,  absoluteness, 
and  privilege  of  the  medical  calling  carry  with 
them  other  risks  than  that  of  blunting  the  feelings. 
The  artist  also  works  in  a  realm  which  tests  his 
sincerity  by  fierce  and  peculiar  ordeals.  Taken  as 
a  whole,  the  heroes,  the  literature,  and  the  legends 
of  the  art  world  are  not  too  friendly  to  high  moral 
ideals  ;  the  comradeship  and  associations  of  the  call- 
ing are  not  encouraging  to  an  artist  with  the  highest 
aspirations ;  and  a  thousand  pathetic  stories  relate 
the  bitter  financial  struggles  of  painters  and  sculptors 
who  were  loyal  to  their  sense  of  truth  and  beauty. 
So  has  the  literary  man  and  the  scientist  sorrows 
of  the  soul  arising  out  of  their  special  callings, 
sorrows  with  which  a  stranger  may  not  intermeddle. 
Commercial  life  has  its  own  forms  of  temptation 
and  besetment.  Some  time  ago  the  papers  re- 
ported that  two  Viennese  bacteriologists  had  exa- 
mined banknotes  which  had  circulated  for  a  few 
years,  and  these  scientists  estimated  the  number  of 
microbes  on  this  currency  at  nineteen  thousand  or 
more  on  each  note ;   they  discovered  specially  the 

SERIES  I.  II 


1 62  Callino:  and  Character 


o 


presence  of  a  septic  bacillus  which  rapidly  kills 
animals  inoculated  with  it,  this  being,  to  speak 
properly,  the  specific  microbe  of  the  banknote — 
it  is  found  nowhere  else.  Besides  this  specific 
microbe  the  scientists  distinctly  recognised  in  the 
banknotes  examined  by  them  eiglit  pathogenic 
species,  among  which  were  the  bacillus  of  tuber- 
culosis, of  diphtheria,  and  of  erysipelas.  They 
are  invisible  to  the  unassisted  eye  and  multiply  at 
a  rapid  rate.  A  revelation  like  this  makes  one 
anxious  to  consign  all  banknotes  at  the  earliest 
moment  to  the  collection-box.  But  if  there  is 
physical  peril  in  handling  this  paper,  what  shall 
we  say  of  the  moral  contagion  with  which  traffic  is 
fraught .''  The  apostle  Paul  in  speaking  of  "  filthy 
lucre  "  opened  our  eyes  to  some  other  microbes  of 
money  and  to  their  ravages.  Of  course  a  great 
variety  of  temptations  arise  out  of  business  life, 
but  it  has  a  specific  peril.  We  learn  that  the 
banknote  is  infested  with  a  deadly  bacillus  peculiar 
to  itself,  it  is  one  not  found  elsewhere ;  and 
trade  has  its  special  virus  to  poison  the  soul, 
rendering  it  sordid  and  base.  The  Roman 
despised  trade,  because  he  found  it  only  avaricious 
and  selfish — it  implied  no  great  ideas  of  heroism 
or  patriotism ;  and  we  still  see  that  the  natural 
influence  of  the  commercial  life  is  to  render  in- 
dividuals and  communities  selfish  and  mercenary. 


Calling  and  Character  163 

Whether  the  commercial  man  is  a  great  speculator 
or  a  small  huckster  does  not  much  matter;  the 
process  of  money-making  has  a  tendency  to  banish 
great  thoughts  and  fine  feelings.  The  narrowing 
lust  of  gold  threatens  all  who  seek  it.  Tempta- 
tion and  peril  which  are  comparatively  faint  and 
distant  to  the  great  mass  of  professional  men  im- 
mediately threaten  those  whose  constant  thought 
is  how  to  buy  and  seU  and  get  gain.  There  is  no 
Christian  man  engaged  in  shopkeeping  and  specu- 
lation who  is  not  more  or  less  conscious  of  the 
blinding,  belittling,  deadening  influence  of  a 
vocation  which  concentrates  the  attention  on 
money-making. 

Soldiers  and  sailors  are  exposed  to  a  special  class 
of  temptations.  The  atmosphere  of  "  the  service  " 
is  at  once  relaxing  to  principle  and  stimulating  to 
passion.  The  life  of  adventure  is  rife  with  unhealthy 
excitements.  And  then  the  restrictions  to  which 
the  civilian  and  landsman  owe  so  much  do  not 
exist  for  the  army  and  navy ;  or  if  they  do 
exist,  they  are  much  less  imperative.  How 
great  is  our  debt  to  social  influences !  We 
never  fail  to  bring  into  the  reckoning  the 
supervision  and  criticism  of  our  neighbours  when- 
ever we  propose  to  ourselves  a  new  pursuit 
or  pleasui'e.  Public  opinion  braces  men  to  un- 
welcome  duties   and   denials.      Many   owe   much 


164  Calling  and  Character 

to  the  amenities  of  domestic  life.  Day  by 
day  home  sheds  its  softening,  strengthening 
influences;  and  although  we  may  not  notice 
them,  they  refresh  and  beautify  our  life  as 
dewdrops  do  the  grass  and  flowers.  We  some- 
times see  how  sadly  emigrants  go  to  pieces  when 
they  are  released  from  social  discipline  and 
inspiration.  Nay,  even  the  tourist  on  a  summer 
holiday  is  not  rarely  all  the  worse  for  the  white 
licence  that  tourists  are  apt  to  take  in  a  foreign 
land.  Many  altogether  lose  their  religion  through 
mistaken  compliance  with  the  heathenish  ways  of 
the  foreigner ;  and  when  they  do  not  actually  lose 
their  religion,  they  suffer  grievous  loss  of  character. 
But  the  military  and  the  maritime  hfe  in  an 
extreme  degree  are  exempt  from  the  salutary 
influence  of  familiar  locality  and  public  opinion. 
"A  wandering  bird  cast  out  of  the  nest"  is 
apt  to  follow  strange  ways  and  to  suffer  sad 
degenerations.  So  obvious  and  severe  are  the 
ordeals  of  ship  and  camp  that  it  would  seem 
well  nigh  impossible  for  men  to  maintain  lives  of 
temperance  and  purity  mider  such  conditions. 

The  coarsening  influence  of  manual  labour  is 
a  real  danger.  A  notorious  experiment  was  once 
tried  in  America  by  a  number  of  distinguished 
poets  and  philosophers  as  to  how  far  and  with 
what  advantage  they  could  combine  practical  agri- 


Calling  and  Character  165 

cultural  pursuits  with  literaiy  labour,  the  result 
of  this  experiment  establishing  the  conclusion 
that  actual  manual  toil  was  not  compatible  with 
the  calmness  and  clearness  essential  to  intellectual 
life  and  achievement.  The  pen  and  the  muck- 
rake did  not  agree  in  fact,  just  as  they  look 
grotesque  and  seem  to  mock  one  another  on  paper. 
Without  question  the  rough  work  of  life  may 
easily  induce  coarseness  of  soul.  We  are  always 
glad  when  a  machine  is  invented  to  discharge 
heavy,  dirty  work  that  hitherto  has  fallen  to  work- 
men ;  we  count  such  an  invention  an  onward  step 
in  civilisation,  exempting  the  toiler  from  so  much 
brute  effort  and  giving  freer  play  to  his  mental 
and  spiritual  faculties.  What  a  vast  amount  of 
severe,  im clean,  unhealthy,  depressing  work  has 
to  be  done  in  a  great  city !  To  a  large  extent 
the  unpleasing,  disagreeable,  and,  in  one  sense, 
debasing  toil  is  screened  from  the  eye  of  the 
delicate  citizen,  but  it  is  work  that  must  be 
done ;  and  as  much  of  it  is  noxious  to  the  body 
of  the  toiler,  we  feel  sure  also  that  it  may  impair 
the  health  of  his  higher  nature.  In  the  country 
it  is  the  same.  We  paint  rustic  life  in  the  colour 
of  the  rose :  the  cottage  porch  is  festooned  with 
honeysuckle ;  the  villager  breathes  the  scent  of 
the  briar,  whilst  the  pure  dew  is  sown  on  his 
path  and  the  sweet  wild  flowers ;  in  the  morning 


1 66  Calling  and  Character 

he  is  gi'eeted  by  the  lark,  the  evening  star  lights 
him  to  his  pillow,  and  the  nightingale  sings  him 
to  sleep.  But  we  cannot  forget  the  dunghill 
and  all  that  belongs  to  it.  The  work  of  the  rustic 
amid  clods  and  cattle  brings  peculiar  perils  to  the 
finer  senses  of  the  soul.  It  is  quite  true  that  the 
stable,  the  shambles,  the  slough,  and  the  slime  may 
be  more  favourable  to  a  man's  best  nature  than 
are  some  gilded  chambers  redolent  of  luxurious 
perfumes ;  that  fact,  however,  does  not  gainsay  our 
argument  that  the  foul  work  which  tens  of  thou- 
sands of  our  fellows  are  compelled  to  perform,  and 
the  associations  of  that  work,  will  animalise  and 
vulgarise  the  workers  unless  they  know  how  to 
keep  the  dust  and  stain  out  of  the  inner  chambers. 
The  temptations  of  the  working  classes  are  al- 
together different  from  those  of  professional  men, 
from  those  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  from  the  beset- 
ments  of  the  barracks  and  ocean ;  yet  they  as 
certainly  exist,  and  if  not  resisted  develop  the 
brute  life  at  the  expense  of  the  integrity,  delicacy, 
and  beauty  of  the  spii-it. 

The  ecclesiastical  life  has  its  distinct  and  subtle 
snares.  The  tendency  to  fancy  that  we  have  great 
virtues  and  experiences  because  the  language  which 
expresses  them  is  so  often  on  our  lips,  the  deadening 
effect  of  familiarity  with  sacred  things,  the  tempta- 
tion to  believe  that  we  possess  the  essential  grace 


Calling  and  Character  167 

because  we  have  the  forms  and  vessels  ordained  for 
its  communication — these  and  many  more  are  perils 
of  a  life  spent  in  the  sanctuary. 

Yet  the  grace  of  God  can  keep  us  in  every  legiti- 
mate calling,  and  the  very  difficulties  belonging  to 
any  special  vocation  may  give  character  a  singular 
lustre.  Sir  Matthew  Hale  and  many  other  illus- 
trious names  prove  that  the  legal  life  permits 
and  fosters  the  noblest  character.  The  Church 
boasts  a  constellation  of  surgeons  and  physicians 
who  have  done  honour  to  human  nature.  James 
Smetham  proves  that  a  career  of  passionate 
art  aspiration  may  be  blended  with  an  earnest 
spiritual  life.  Jenny  Lind  and  Antoinette  Sterling 
show  that  the  public  singer  may  walk  in  white 
raiment.  Multitudes  of  commercial  men  are 
spiritual  men  also.  Captain  Hedley  Vicars  and 
a  great  host  beside  have  at  once  been  soldiers  of 
Caesar  and  of  Christ.  Livingstone  proved  trium- 
phantly that  explorers  and  adventurers  on  foreign 
shores,  unaided  by  any  social  restraint  or  im])ulse, 
may  live  saintliest  lives.  And  just  as  in  nature 
the  insects  which  are  the  veiy  scavengers  of  the 
world  are  clothed  with  gold  and  scai'let,  so  men 
who  do  our  roughest  and  grossest  work  not 
seldom  shine  in  a  rare  beauty  of  holiness.  We 
have  no  i-ight  to  expect  the  grace  of  God  to  make 
us  invulnerable  to  the  deteriorating  influences  of 


i68  Calling  and  Character 

an  illegitimate  calling ;  but  we  may  be  confident 
that  there  is  special  grace  for  every  honest  situa- 
tion— grace  that  will  save  to  the  uttermost,  con- 
verting the  threatening  peril  into  a  source  of 
special  excellency. 

To  be  so  afraid  of  pi'actical  life  as  to  attempt  to 
evade  it  is  a  great  mistake.  Sometimes  Christian 
men  retire  eai'ly  from  active  life,  entirely  on  the 
ground  that  they  cannot  bear  any  longer  the 
chicanery  of  the  lav/,  the  cheating  of  trade,  the 
distractions  of  politics,  the  temptations  of  adven- 
ture, or  the  debasing  associations  of  toil.  We 
need  not  be  greatly  surprised  that  Macready 
retired  from  the  stage  at  the  earliest  possible 
moment,  that  Madame  Lind  in  the  very  zenith 
of  her  fame  forsook  the  opera ;  but,  as  a  grand 
rule,  most  men  have  little  to  gain  by  withdraw- 
ing from  practical  life.  No  state  has  greater 
perils  than  the  state  that  is  without  active 
duties.  It  is  not  safe  or  well  for  vigorous  men 
to  strip  themselves  of  the  tasks  and  responsi- 
bilities of  life.  Those  who  never  had  any  trade  or 
profession  are  often  the  very  last  men  we  need 
envy.  It  is  not  in  that  class  that  we  should  seek 
for  pattern  saints.  And  we  have  known  several 
cases  in  which  Christian  men  have  withdrawn  from 
active  public  life  without  any  advantage  to  their 
character,  happiness,  or   usefulness.     Let   it   be  a 


Calling  and  Character  169 

settled  point  that,  unless  there  is  something  very 
singular  in  our  case,  we  need  the  discipline  of 
a  full,  absorbing  life.  The  monk  in  his  cell  and 
the  anchorite  in  the  desert  are  beset  with  darker 
temptations  and  dangers  than  are  the  busiest 
toilers  of  the  city. 

Of  course  we  are  at  liberty  to  change  our  voca- 
tion if  circumstances  permit ;  yet  it  will  be  well 
not  to  cherish  great  expectations  from  such  changes. 
We  usually  discover  that  we  have  simply  forsaken 
one  furnace  for  another.  Says  the  apostle,  "Let 
each  man  abide  in  that  calling  wherein  he  was 
called.  .  .  .  Brethren,  let  each  man,  wherein  he 
was  called,  therein  abide  with  God."  Here  the 
apostle  did  not  contemplate  the  precise  matter  we 
are  considering,  but  substantially  he  did.  In  so 
many  words  he  says :  The  station,  the  condition, 
the  task  is  Uttle ;  greatly  endeavour  to  glorify  God 
in  it,  whatever  it  may  be.  Generally  little  is 
gained  spiritually  by  exchanging  position  and 
work.  Let  us  not  fret  oui-selves  on  account  of  our 
calling  and  environment.  The  main  thing  is  to 
discern  the  possibilities  of  our  lot,  and  through 
patience,  watchfulness,  and  prayer  to  get  out  of  it 
whatever  it  can  give  of  knowledge,  strength,  and 
blessing.  The  New  Testament  exhibits  the  saint 
in  very  different  situations  and  callings.  Tent- 
makers,  sailors,   soldiers,   artisans,   lawyers,  physi- 


lyo  Calling  and  Character 

cians,  tanners,  carpenters,  statesmen,  household 
servants,  fishermen,  sellers  of  purple,  agriculturists 
— devout  men  and  w^omen  have  adorned  all  possible 
positions  and  glorified  God  by  learning  the  special 
lessons  of  His  grace  and  providence.  Almost  any- 
thing is  better  than  the  restless  will  that  wastes 
life  seeking  for  new  places  aad  things. 


XXV 

SIGNS  OF  SPIRITUAL  DECLENSION 

Strangers  have  devoured  his  strength,  and  he  knoweth  It 
not:  yea,  gray  hairs  are  here  and  there  upon  him,  yet  he 
knoweth  not. — Hos.  vii.  9. 

The  Lord  had  separated  Israel  from  the  nations 
that  it  might  be  holy  to  Him;  it  was  a  people 
destined  to  dwell  alone.  Yet  in  opposition  to  their 
divine  calling  the  ten  tribes  mingled  with  the 
heathen,  learned  their  works,  and  served  their  idols. 
This  association  with  the  surrounding  nations 
was  injurious  to  them  in  several  respects,  but 
chiefly  it  had  eaten  out  their  moral  strength  until 
their  glory  had  become  a  fading  flower.  "  Gray 
hairs,"  says  the  prophet,  "  are  sprinkled  upon  it "  ; 
in  various  directions  were  signs  of  decay  in  the 
body  politic.  The  people  at  large,  however,  failed 
to  see  that  the  state  was  being  ruined  ;  they  were 
blind  to  the  symptoms  of  weakness,  the  approach 
of  disaster.  We  do  not  propose  to  enlarge  upon 
the   subject  of  Israel's  malady  and  unconscious- 

171 


172       signs  of  Spiritual  Declension 

ness,  but  to  note  the  symptoms  of  spiritual  declen- 
sion in  the  individual  life. 

I,  We  specify  some  signs  of  spiritual  decay. 
"Gray  hairs  are  upon  thee."  There  are  certain 
signs  when  religious  faith  begins  to  decline,  when 
the  force,  freshness,  and  joyousness  of  spiritual  life 
are  on  the  wane.  These  peculiar  signs  indicate 
the  beginning  of  the  evil.  They  are  not  numerous 
and  obtrusive,  betokening  one  ripe  for  the  grave, 
but  the  grey  hairs  are  "  here  and  there,"  requiring 
attention  ere  we  are  aware  of  them.  What,  then, 
are  these  signs  of  the  soul's  incipient  aging  and 
decrepitude  } 

1.  There  is  the  growth  of  the  critical  temper.  A 
certain  critical  attitude  is  proper  and  desirable  in 
religious  people.  "  Prove  all  things  ;  hold  fast  that 
which  is  good."  But  there  is  a  temper  of  criticism 
that  is  no  sign  of  health.  An  increasing  eager- 
ness to  criticise  the  Church,  to  find  fault  with  its 
members  and  methods,  to  discuss  its  affairs  with 
just  a  little  acidity,  is  a  grizzly  hair.  A  grow- 
ing readiness  to  criticise  the  Scriptures,  to  think 
and  speak  of  them  doubtfully  and  depreciatingly, 
is  another  ugly  sign.  "  Your  tongue  hath  muttered 
perverseness,"  cried  Isaiah.  They  did  not  begin 
with  frank,  outspoken,  audacious  infidelities,  but 
with  "mutterings"  of  perverseness.  In  the  fifth 
verse  of  this  chapter  Hosea  accxises  the  people  of 


Signs  of  Spiritual  Declension       173 

outspoken  and  defiant  unbelief:  "He  stretched 
out  his  hand  with  scomers."  That  was  the  ending 
and  consummation  of  apostasy ;  but  the  beginning 
was  the  hinted  dislike,  the  cool  acquiescence,  the 
captious  criticism,  the  inclination  to  see  spots  in 
the  sun,  to  pick  holes  in  sacred  things,  the 
muttered  perverseness.  When  we  begin  to  lend 
an  ear  to  tales  about  ovu"  friend,  to  take  excep- 
tion to  acts  and  ways  of  his  which  are  really 
indifferent,  to  make  him  an  offender  for  a  word, 
to  call  him  to  account  for  trifles,  our  affection 
is  unquestionably  growing  cold,  our  friendship  is 
being  sicklied  over  with  grey  hairs.  We  may  be 
sure  that  increased  willingness  to  carp  at  divine 
things,  religious  people,  and  sacred  institutions  is 
an  infallible  sign  of  abating  spiritual  enthusiasm 
and  vitahty.  The  habit  of  criticism  grows  as  faith 
declines. 

2.  Another  sign  of  decay  is  an  abatement  of 
feeling.  A  sincere,  consecrated  soul  is  rich  in 
emotion  and  intensity;  it  regards  the  good  and 
beautiful  with  enthusiasm,  the  evil  and  ugly  with 
abhorrence.  It  was  said  of  a  French  sceptic  that 
"  he  was  hardened  equally  against  good  and  evil." 
He  regarded  good  without  admiration  and  evil 
without  loathing ;  in  contact  with  varying  moral 
quaUties,  he  felt  neither  pain  nor  pleasure.  Here 
we  have  such  a  man  as  the  apostle  described — one 


1 74       Signs  of  Spiritual  Declension 

"without  feeling/*  one  not  with  grey  hairs  "here 
and  there,"  but  whose  heart  was  grey  all  over. 
Now,  it  is  possible  for  the  most  intense  Christian 
soul  to  lose  its  sensibility  and  to  become  as  callous 
as  this  sceptic.  Such  a  process  of  hardening  may 
be  very  gradual.  Little  by  little  we  lose  our 
keen  delight  in  God,  our  warm  loyalty  to  our 
Saviour,  our  exquisite  pleasure  in  noble  things,  our 
cordial  sympathy  with  spiritual  people  and  their 
aims;  little  by  little  we  dechne  into  godlessness 
and  worldliness.  There  is  a  growing  deadness  of 
nerve,  a  creeping  paralysis  which  leaves  us  more 
and  more  untouched  and  unmoved  by  the  high  and 
glorious  things  of  our  faith,  which  renders  us  more 
and  more  careless  about  the  tragic  possibilities  of 
life. 

3.  A  relaxed  conscience  is  an  hidex  of  decay. 
Hosea  saw  in  Ephraim  luxury,  pi-ofligacy,  licence, 
and  idolatry  —  things  learned  from  the  pagan. 
In  this  du-ection,  too,  must  we  watch  for  signs 
of  degeneration.  There  may  be  no  overt  act  of 
iniquity,  whilst  the  process  of  deterioration  is 
still  going  on.  It  is  sometimes  said  concerning 
a  Christian  man,  He  is  not  so  particular  as  he 
used  to  be.  This  generally  means  that  grey  hairs 
are  upon  him.  It  is  a  serious  thing  indeed  when 
we  cease  to  be  as  particular  as  we  once  were  in 
matters   of    character    and    conduct.      Of  course 


Signs  of  Spiritual  Declension       175 

Christian  men  may  grow  into  a  larger  freedom  of 
life  so  far  as  immaterial  things  are  concerned. 
They  come  to  see  more  clearly  what  is  spiritual 
and  essential,  and  are  not  so  rigid  about  observ- 
ances and  fornis  which  once  seemed  matters  of 
obligation.  Such  carefulness  might  in  the  earlier 
stages  of  religious  experience  and  character  be 
of  real  advantage ;  but  just  as  flowers  and  trees 
maturing  in  the  sun  dispense  with  stakes  and 
cords,  so  the  strengthening  soul  renounces  habits 
which  were  helpful  in  its  initial  stages.  It  is  a  sign 
of  real  progress,  a  source  of  pure  delight,  to  gain 
this  larger  liberty  of  thought  and  life.  But  re- 
laxation of  conscience  is  an  altogether  different 
matter.  Any  practical  antinomianism  is  a  sure 
sign  of  spiritual  decay.  A  growing  soul  feels  more 
and  more  the  supreme  claims  of  righteousness.  It 
is,  as  we  have  said,  a  sad  thing  when  a  man  is  less 
particular  than  he  once  was  about  the  things  of 
justice,  purity,  kindness,  and  truth. 

4.  An  increased  leaning  to  the  worldly  side  of  life  is 
another  ominous  sign.  The  world  grows  upon  us — 
its  interests,  friendships,  and  pleasures.  In  China 
great  men  sentenced  to  capital  punishment  have 
the  privilege  of  choking  themselves  with  gold- 
leaf  or  of  strangling  themselves  by  a  silken 
cord.  How  many  commit  spiritual  suicide  after 
the  same  fashion  !     They  choke  the  higher  life  by 


176       Signs  of  Spiritual  Declension 

the  lust  of  gold,  they  strangle  it  by  sillzen  cords  of 
fashion  and  pleasure.  "If  any  man  love  the  world, 
the  love  of  the  Father  is  not  in  him."  Some 
who  once  loved  God  with  all  their  heart  are  learn- 
ing stealthily  to  love  the  world,  to  love  it  increas- 
ingly :  earthliness  is  an  appreciable  note  in  their 
experience  and  character. 

The  grey  hairs  "  here  and  there  "  indicate,  as  I 
say,  the  beginnings  of  decay.  In  many,  a  word 
only  betrays  the  inner  failure,  some  trifling  act 
— nay,  perhaps  only  a  certain  tone,  accent,  or 
look.  But  to  what  it  may  grow,  who  shall  say  ? 
Grey  hairs  have  a  tendency  to  multiply  quickly, 
and  secret  venial  weaknesses  may  precipitate  flag- 
rant backsliding. 

II.  Mark  the  fact  that  whilst  spiritual  life  is 
declining  we  may  be  quite  unconscious  of  the 
MISCHIEF.  "And  he  Icnoweth  it  not."  "Yet  he 
knoweth  not."  The  complaint  is  repeated  by  the 
prophet  with  an  air  of  surprise.  Men  are  sometimes 
unconscious  of  the  decay  of  their  physical  powers 
and  mental  faculties.  An  old  man  will  assure  us 
that  he  is  quite  as  vigorous  as  in  years  past. 
Intellectually  he  knows  himself  to  be  as  good 
as  ever,  his  mind  is  as  clear,  his  memoiy  as 
tenacious,  his  imagination  as  prolific,  only  mis- 
taken friends  are  foolishly  begging  him  to  retire: 
whilst  as  to  his  physical  strength,  he  finds  it  un- 


Signs  of  Spiritual  Declension       177 

abated ;  he  can  do  as  much  work  as  ever,  more 
than  many  young  people  do  now;  his  sight  is 
good — only  modern  print  is  so  small ;  his  hearing 
is  as  quick  as  of  yore,  if  people  would  only  open 
their  mouth  when  they  speak,  as  people  used  to 
do ;  and  he  would  go  on  to  tell  a  great  deal  more 
about  his  perennial  perfections,  only  he  is  out  of 
breath.  It  is  much  the  same  with  men  morally  and 
spiritually — conscience,  faith,  feeling,  hope,  and 
aspiration  decline,  and  yet  it  is  possible  for  them 
to  go  on  as  confidently  as  ever.  Softly  as  the  rot 
consumes  the  pith  of  the  tree,  secretly  as  the  worm 
eats  out  the  bud  of  the  damask  rose,  noiselessly  as 
the  moth  frets  the  purple  robe,  so  does  the  spirit 
of  unbelief  and  secularism  consume  the  strength 
and  glory  of  the  soul  which  is  hardly  conscious  of 
the  terrible  change  passing  upon  it.  How  do  men 
resist  the  teaching  of  the  grey  hairs  ? 

1.  Sometimes  they  make  light  of  them.  The 
appearance  of  the  first  grey  hairs  is  quite  a  humor- 
ous event,  a  subject  for  banter.  We  are  not  old 
yet,  neither  are  we  diseased  ;  we  proudly  lift  up 
our  head,  our  eye  Is  bright,  our  grip  strong,  our 
step  elastic ;  it  is  really  funny  that  first  white  hair. 
But  for  all  our  merriment  it  is  a  pathetic  signal. 
One  of  our  novelists  speaks  of  "the  tragedy  of 
the  min'or,"  and  the  revelation  of  the  first  blanched 
hairs  is  part  of  that  tragedy.     It  means  that  youth 

SERIES  I.  12 


1 78       Signs  of  Spiritual  Declension 

is  over,  that  the  noon  has  come,  the  afternoon,  the 
tide  is  turning ;  and  although  we  make  sport  of 
it,  in  our  sober  hours  we  recognise  its  pathos. 
Similarly  men  talk  away,  and  smile  away,  the  first 
signs  of  spiritual  declension.  They  have  plenty  of 
the  right  elements  in  them  yet,  they  are  not  going 
to  the  bad  all  at  once  ;  and  when  the  Spirit  of  God 
lifts  the  mirror  of  truth  and  shows  them  their  real 
selves — their  failure  of  faith,  their  chilled  love,  the 
spot  on  their  purity — they  reason  the  thing  away, 
smile  it  away,  as  if  Httle  cause  existed  for  alarm. 

2.  Sometimes  we  pull  out  the  grey  hairs.  We 
resolutely  decline  to  look  at  the  fact  of  our  grow- 
ing weakness  and  age.  There  is  a  corresponding 
mood  to  this  in  the  spiritual  life.  Whenever  dis- 
quieting signs  appear  we  decline  to  give  them  a 
place  in  oiu*  thoughts.  We  will  not  acknowledge 
to  ourselves  the  really  serious  and  alarming  condi- 
tion of  our  soul.  If  we  would  face  the  facts  of  our 
growing  neglect  of  public  worship,  our  slackening 
zeal  in  evangelical  service,  our  irregularity  in  family 
woi'ship,  our  interrupted  fellowship  with  the  saints, 
our  less  earnest  study  of  God's  word,  our  diminished 
spirituality  of  life,  and  lay  to  heart  these  things, 
there  would  be  hope ;  but  we  refuse  to  consider 
these  fallings  away  and  what  they  mean,  and  the 
interior  decay  goes  on  unrecognised  and  unchecked. 
"  And  the  pride  of  Israel  testifieth  to  his  face  :  and 


Signs  of  Spiritual  Declension       179 

they  do  not  return  to  the  Lord  their  God,  nor  seek 
Him  for  all  this  "  (ver.  1 0). 

3.  Sometimes  the  grey  hairs  are  hidden.  People 
are  very  clever  in  hiding  these  warning  hints  of 
nature,  brushing  them  out  of  sight,  concealing  them 
in  the  raven  tresses  or  in  the  golden  crown.  So 
there  are  ingenious  ways  of  hiding  from  ourselves 
and  passing  over  the  ominous  signs  of  a  weakened 
faith,  an  impaired  conscience,  a  declining  spiritu- 
ality, or  a  less  strenuous  Christian  life.  We  fix 
our  attention  upon  the  many  unquestionable  things 
of  goodness  in  our  heart  and  action,  and  find  it 
easy  to  ignore  the  exceptional  declensions.  A  man 
ought  not  to  satisfy  himself  about  his  physical  con- 
dition by  a  reference  to  his  general  health:  he 
ought  to  give  earnest  heed  to  exceptional,  dis- 
turbing incidents  in  his  appearance  and  feeling ; 
for  the  slight  uneasiness  of  the  eye  may  end  in 
cataract,  the  soreness  of  mouth  or  throat  may  mean 
cancer,  an  insensibility  to  pain  here  or  there  may 
indicate  paralysis  of  the  organs  of  the  brain.  It 
might  prove  a  fatal  error  to  ignore  an  apparently 
ti'ifling  symptom  of  disease  or  impotence  by  appeal- 
ing to  the  general  robustness  of  our  physique  ;  and 
men  are  therefore  careful  to  note  any  faint  sign  of 
disorder  in  their  physical  condition.  It  ought  to 
be  the  same  with  our  religious  life  :  yet  we  often 
console  ourselves  by  thinking  of  the  general  sound- 


1 80       Signs  of  Spiritual  Declension 

ness  and  goodness  of  our  character ;  we  hide  under 
the  flowing  locks  the  grey  hairs  which  sprinkle  us. 
We  enlarge  upon  our  excelling  good,  instead  of 
noting  the  exceptional  sign  of  evil  and  weakness 
which,  spreading,  may  spoil  all. 

4.  Perhaps  we  give  the  grey  hairs  another  colour. 
The  Master  said,  "Thou  canst  not  make  one 
hair  white  or  black."  That  is  true  as  the  Master 
meant  it,  but  we  make  them  appear  another  colour 
than  they  are.  We  are  masters  of  capillary 
chromatics ;  we  concoct  cosmetics,  elixirs,  balms, 
essences,  and  solutions,  and  accomplish  miracles 
— grey  hairs  appear  as  locks  of  jet,  tresses  of 
gold,  nay,  hoary  heads  shine  with  metallic 
splendour,  with  iridescent  hues,  like  the  tints  on 
the  neck  of  a  dove ;  actually  the  tokens  of  decay 
become  things  of  beauty  and  pride.  So  we  give  to 
the  signs  of  spiritual  decay  another  colour.  We 
do  not  stigmatise  our  carping  criticism  of  revela- 
tion as  unbelief;  we  know  it  as  "an  open  mind." 
We  do  not  reprobate  our  nagging  attacks  upon 
the  Church  as  a  lack  of  loyalty  and  charity ;  we 
flatteringly  regard  them  as  a  love  of  consistency 
and  candour.  We  do  not  brand  our  coolness  and 
insensibility  as  indifference;  we  fondly  surmise 
that  we  have  attained  "the  philosophic  mind." 
We  do  not  call  our  overweening  desire  for  wealth 
or  show  the  pride  of  life ;  it  is  making  "  the  best 


Signs  of  Spiritual  Declension       1 8 1 

of  both  worlds."  We  do  not  look  upon  our  carnal 
compliances  as  walking  after  the  flesh ;  we 
congratulate  oureelves  that  we  are  getting  rid  of 
puritanism.  As  blanched  hairs  by  the  chemist's 
art  are  stained  with  colours  of  loveliness  and  made 
the  pride  of  blonde  or  brunette^  so  Christian  men 
transfigure  the  very  signs  of  their  backsliding^  and 
glory  in  the  things  which  ought  to  fill  them  with 
deepest  concern.  "  Now  that  which  decayeth  and 
waxeth  old  is  ready  to  vanish  away." 


XXVI 

IMPERFECT  ATTACHMENTS  TO 
CHRIST 

Not  for  Jesus'  sake  only. — John  xii.  9. 

Much  people  of  the  Jews  thronged  the  Saviour; 
but,  as  the  evangelist  relates,  it  was  not  for  the 
Saviour's  sake  that  they  were  drawn  together. 
May  it  not  be  true  still  that  some  are  found  in 
Christ's  presence,  following  in  Christ's  train,  who 
are  not  altogether  actuated  by  faith  in  the  Master 
and  by  devotion  to  His  cause  ? 

1.  Some  are  moved  by  curiosity.  Their  interest 
in  Christ  is  intellectual.  Mark  the  text,  "  But 
that  they  might  see  Lazarus."  To  see  a  man  who 
had  come  back  from  the  tomb,  to  hear — ah !  who 
can  say  what? — from  his  lips  touching  unknown 
worlds :  here  was  provocation  for  the  curiosity  of 
the  multitude.  So  it  is  to  -  day.  Christianity 
promises  light  on  various  dark  problems  which  are 
of  profound  interest  to  the  individual  and  the  race. 
Hence  it  has  a  powerful  charm  for  the  intel- 
lectual class;   and  to  a  large   extent  that  cliarm 

182 


Imperfect  Attachments  to  Christ     183 

holds  this  class  in  a  certain  relation  to  Christ. 
This  is  an  imperfect  attachment.  We  ought  to 
love  Christ  because  we  feel  He  first  loved  us — 
because  we  see  in  Him  a  glorious  pattern — because 
we  know  Him  as  our  Saviour,  perfecter,  hope. 
But  as  we  suggest,  the  interest  of  some  in  Christ 
is  mainly  intellectual.  They  regard  Him  for  the 
light  that  He  sheds  upon  great  questions  of  life 
and  destiny.  He  is  then-  prophet  rather  than 
their  Saviour. 

2.  Some  are  influenced  by  custom.  It  was  the 
fashion  of  the  hour  to  be  interested  in  Christ 
(vers.  12-19).  One  was  going,  so  another  would 
go  also.  Is  it  not  thus  still  ?  May  we  not  say 
truly  that  the  power  of  fashion  has  something  to 
do  with  bringing  many  about  Christ  ?  We  ought 
to  come  to  the  sanctuary  to  listen  to  Him  because 
we  love  His  words ;  but  is  it  not  also  true  that 
we  are  in  His  Chvu-ch  because  the  respectable 
multitude  is  there  ?  We  ought  to  give  for  Christ's 
sake  ;  but  we  give  because  others  give,  and  regulate 
our  gifts  by  theirs.  We  ought  to  woi*k  for  His 
K.ike ;  but  we  attend  the  missionary  meeting 
chiefly  that  we  may  hear  Apollos.  We  follow 
Christ,  not  because  we  are  wrapped  up  in  His 
tru'-.h  and  love  and  beauty,  which  is  the  true 
attachment,  but  because  we  yield  to  the  magnetism 
of  the  crowd. 


1 84     Imperfect  Attachments  to  Christ 

S.  Some  are  decided  by  interest.  Christ  had  a 
certain  degree  of  popularity  because  He  healed  the 
people  and  fed  them — not  because  of  what  He  was 
in  His  highest  character  and  mission,  but  because 
of  the  carnal  good  which  incidentally  accompanied 
His  presence  and  work.  It  is  equally  true  now. 
Some  look  at  nature  with  an  altogether  sordid  eye. 
There  is  so  much  timber  in  the  forest,  so  many 
quarters  of  com  in  the  yellow  fields,  so  much  gold 
in  the  mine,  so  many  gems  in  the  sea.  The  man 
is  lost  in  the  merchant.  We  may  easily  appraise 
Christianity  by  this  coarse,  cold  calculation  — 
not  valuing  it  so  much  for  its  redeeming  grace, 
moral  mspirations,  purifying  influence,  and  mighty 
hope,  as  for  its  tendency  to  increase  the  balance 
at  the  bank,  to  fill  a  nation  with  strength 
and  treasure.  Virtues  are  to  a  large  extent 
esteemed  and  looked  after  as  they  pay.  Men  care 
for  righteousness  as  it  affects  their  health,  property, 
and  position.  The  money  value  of  the  virtues 
determines  their  importance.  The  first  command- 
ment is  that  which  pays  the  best;  the  last  that 
which  pays  the  least.  We  have  organised  expen- 
sive societies  to  look  after  the  virtues  of  temper- 
ance, purity,  and  thrift ;  it  never  occurs  to 
anyone  to  create  a  great  society  with  oratoi-s, 
schedules,  and  newspapers  to  watch  over  such 
virtues    as    good    temper,    patience,    and    kindly- 


Imperfect  Attachments  to  Christ     185 

speaking.  The  virtues  which  imply  financial 
gain  are  specially  guarded,  whilst  other  virtues  are 
left  to  take  care  of  themselves.  But  the  pure 
lover  of  Christ  loves  goodness  impartially,  and  in 
all  things.  Christ  must  often  look  into  our  muddy 
soids  and  grieve,  **  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you. 
Ye  seek  Me,  not  because  ye  saw  the  miracles, 
but  because  ye  did  eat  of  the  loaves,  and  were 
fiUed." 

4.  Some  are  charmed  by  taste.  Many  in  Christ's 
day  felt  the  beauty  of  His  character  without 
penetrating  to  its  secret ;  they  very  imperfectly 
realised  the  divine  love  and  righteousness  out 
of  which  that  beauty  sprang.  It  is  so  now. 
Men  find  a  pleasure  in  moral  excellence,  not 
so  much  for  its  intrinsic  worth  as  for  its  beauty. 
It  is  an  aesthetic  admiration  rather  than  a  spiritual 
appreciation.  And  so  they  respect  Jesus  Christ, 
so  they  respect  Christianity.  Taine  in  his  Notes 
on  England  affords  an  illustration  of  this.  This 
critic  considers  Christianity  to  be  a  mere  super- 
stition ;  he  laughs  at  our  sceptics  because  they 
are  not  sceptical  enough.  Yet  he  candidly  admits 
that  the  practical  influence  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion is  fine ;  and  the  sentiment  of  Christianity 
is  to  be  respected,  not  because  it  is  true,  but 
because  it  moulds  a  heroic  and  noble  nation. 
"  Not    for    Jesus'    sake    only."       Christianity    is 


1 86     Imperfect  Attachments  to  Christ 

respected  because  it  creates  lovely  sights ;  as  Dr. 
Duncan  says,  "  We  cultivate  holiness  as  so  much 
personal  adornment." 

There  may  be  much  that  is  false  and  mixed  in 
the  considerations  which  cause  men  to  crowd  about 
Christ.  "  For  Jesus'  sake  only "  is  to  love  the 
saintly  life  out  of  love,  gratitude,  enthusiasm  ;  to 
feel  that  in  Christ's  life  is  the  highest  model,  ia 
His  love  the  strongest  motive,  in  His  vork  the 
grandest  calling;  to  live  to  Him  in  the  spirit  of 
trust,  love,  and  sacrifice,  asking  for  nothing  beyond. 
But  many  attachments  are  imperfect.  Numbers 
swell  the  congregations  of  Christendom  who  are 
not  there  out  of  pure  love  and  devotion.  Intel- 
lect is  there  because  Christ  can  satisfy  some  of 
its  hunger.  Fashion  is  there  because  Christ  has 
acquired  social  credit.  Taste  is  there  because 
Christ  reveals  a  certain  ideal  of  ethical  loveliness. 
Prudence  and  policy  are  there  in  thousands,  not 
because  Christ  is  truth  and  love  and  righteousness, 
but  because  in  His  hands  are  the  loaves  and  fishes^ 
and  they  who  follow  in  His  train  eat  and  are  filled. 

These  imperfect  attachments  may  be  illoived  as 
staHing-points  in  the  Christian  life.  The  people  in 
the  text  are  not  condemned  for  coming  to  Jesus 
with  mixed  intentions ;  for  indeed  the  religious 
life  often  begins  with  adulterated  ideas  —  men 
start    from    very    low   grounds    indeed.      One   is 


Imperfect  Attachments  to  Christ     187 

charmed  with  the  hitellectual  promise  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  another  is  tempted  because  a  Christian 
hfe  associates  us  with  excellent  people ;  whilst 
others  think  of  the  material  advantages  which 
follow  in  its  train.  Here  men  may  start.  Christ 
recognises  these  starting-points.  They  are  not  the 
highest  considerations,  but  they  are  legitimate  as 
far  as  they  go.  They  are  accepted.  So  Matthew 
Heniy  says,  "  God  makes  the  best  of  the  green 
ears  of  wheat."  What  a  good  thing  that  He  does  ! 
— that  He  is  pitiful  to  the  immature,  the  crude, 
and  the  imperfect !  He  makes  the  best  of  the 
green  ears,  and  so  by-and-by  they  become  golden 
ears  in  His  garden. 

But  the  imperfect  attachment  can  only  be  allowed 
as  a  starting-point.  The  true  condition  is  that  in 
which  we  love  God  with  a  true  heart,  in  which  we 
love  Christ  because  of  what  He  is,  and  love  good- 
ness because  it  is  goodness.  A  youth  professes 
love  and  devotion  for  a  maiden ;  but  if  he  too 
eagerly  counts  the  silver  spoons,  all  the  charm  is 
gone — he  is  a  merchant,  not  a  lover,  and  people 
say  unkind  things  about  him.  True  love  thinks 
nothing  of  dowry ;  the  maiden  is  wooed  for  her 
own  dear  sake — for  the  qualities,  intellectual, 
moral,  and  affectional,  which  belong  to  her. 

This  is  the  ideal  relation  to  goodness :  for  His 
own  sake.     The  true  state  is  that  in  which  we 


1 88     Imperfect  Attachments  to  Christ 

cling  to  Him,  not  for  the  sake  of  what  is  profitable, 
safe,  or  gratifying,  but  because  of  His  immortal 
qualities.  His  beauty.  His  love— in  which  we  cling 
to  Him,  not  only  when  He  answers  our  question- 
ings, but  when  He  is  silent ;  not  only  when  He  is 
fashionable,  but  when  He  is  forsaken ;  not  only 
when  discipleship  insures  wealth  and  honour,  but 
when  it  involves  disgrace  and  poverty;  not  only 
because  He  can  make  us  perfect,  but  because  He 
is  perfection. 

Not  for  Christ  at  all.  When  Franklin  offered 
Whitefield  a  lodging,  the  evangelist  replied,  "  If 
you  have  done  this  for  Christ's  sake,  you  shall  not 
lose  your  reward."  Franklin  replied,  **  I  have  not 
done  it  for  Christ's  sake,  but  for  your  sake."  Are 
not  some  of  us  in  the  Christian  Church  simply  for 
the  sake  of  its  eloquence,  respectability,  learning, 
music,  or  its  philanthropy  ? 

Not  for  Christ's  sake  oiili^ ;  a  genuine  regard  for 
Christ,  but  more  or  less  alloyed  with  carnal  con- 
siderations. 

Christ  only — His  beauty  our  joy.  His  life  our 
model,  His  love  our  impulse,  His  favour  our  life. 
More  and  more  let  us  aim  at  this,  caring  less  for 
the  things  which  accompany  goodness,  and  more  for 
goodness  itself  Let  us  do  all  out  of  love  to  Him 
and  His  commandments. 


XXVII 
JUSTIFICATION  BY  WORKS 

The  Lord  rewarded  me  according  to  my  righteousness ; 
according  to  the  cleanness  of  my  hands  hath  He  recompensed 
me. — Ps.  xviii.  20-27 

In  the  former  part  of  this  psalm  David  recounts 
how  he  was  delivered  in  a  time  of  extreme  periL 
With  supreme  pomp  and  power  God  arose,  came 
forth,  scattered  the  strong  enemy,  dried  up  the 
raging  flood,  and  set  His  servant  in  a  large  place. 
In  the  nineteenth  verse  the  psalmist  gives  a  reason 
for  this  deliverance :  "  He  delivered  me,  because 
He  delighted  in  me."  Why  did  God  delight  in 
him  ?  The  psalmist  declares  that  the  ultimate 
reason  was  no  arbitrary  favom-itism,  but  that  God 
delighted  in  His  servant  because  of  his  personal 
faith  and  character. 

Let  it  be  understood  what  it  is  that  the  psalmist 
here  claims  for  himself.  "  I  was  also  upright 
before  Him  "  ;  i.e.  "  I  was  also  loyal  to  Him,"  is  the 
rendering  of  Horsley.  David  asserts  the  sincerity 
of  his  desire  to  please  God  ;  he  asserts  the  upright- 

189 


190  Justification  by  Works 

ness  of  his  conduct  before  God.  He  had  put  the 
law  before  him,  put  it  before  him  in  its  entirety, 
had  kept  it  before  him,  and  honestly  and  strenuously 
sought  to  fulfil  it.  The  spirit  of  this  appeal  is  far 
removed  from  pharis.iism;  it  is  not  an  outburst 
of  self-complacency  and  vaingloriousness,  but  the 
legitimate  expression  of  conscious  integrity.  Some 
of  the  best  characters  in  the  New  Testament  bear 
similar  witness  to  themselves.  Now,  if  the  grace 
of  God  has  done  anything  for  us,  why  should  we 
not  simply  and  candidly  realise  and  express  the 
fact  ?  If  we  have  kept  our  raiment  white,  let  us 
anoint  our  head  with  ointment ;  if  we  have  con- 
quered our  selfishness  and  done  generously,  our 
cowardice  and  done  bravely,  our  sloth  and  done 
fervently,  let  us  frankly  and  thankfully  celebrate 
our  victory ;  if  we  have  trusted  God  in  dark 
days,  let  us  sing  about  it ;  if  we  have  kept  our 
hands  clean,  let  us  on  occasion  hold  them  up. 
We  are  rather  shy  of  using  language  like  that  in 
the  text,  we  shrink  as  if  it  savoured  of  compla- 
cency ;  it  is,  however,  always  well  for  us  boldly 
to  recognise  the  triumphs  of  divine  grace  in  our 
character  and  experience.  Nothing  succeeds  like 
success,  and  we  are  ignoring  a  fountain  of  inspira- 
tion when  we  timidly  shut  our  eyes  to  the  clear 
evidences  of  the  victories  of  the  inner  life.  It  is 
true  enough  that  we  are  "  miserable  offenders " ; 


Justification  by  Works  191 

but,  as  God's  people,  we  are  a  great  deal  more, 
and  it  is  neither  to  God's  glory  nor  to  our 
strengthening  that  we  should  be  blind  and  dumb 
to  those  fairer  aspects  of  our  character  which  are 
gradually  coining  into  sight  and  to  those  newer  and 
fuller  victories  over  self  and  sin  which  we  are 
consciously  achieving.  It  is  eminently  right  and 
proper  to  refresh  ourselves  with  the  consciousness 
of  personal  integrity,  with  the  facts  of  triumph. 
To  the  glory  of  God's  grace,  let  us  honestly 
acknowledge  to  ourselves  and  others  the  growing 
dominion  of  righteousness  in  our  soul. 

1.  God  deals  with  us  as  we  deal  with  Him. 
*'  Therefore  hath  the  Lord  recompensed  me."  God 
had  dealt  with  him  as  he  had  dealt  vdth  God.  He 
trusted  God,  and  God  delivered  him ;  he  loved 
God,  and  God  delighted  in  him  ;  he  served  God, 
and  God  honoured  and  blessed  him.  This  is  ever 
the  great  canon  of  the  divine  rule. 

As  we  love  God  He  will  love  us.  **  We  love  God, 
because  He  first  loved  us  "  ;  but  having  known  His 
love,  tliere  is  a  veiy  true  sense  in  which  its  pro- 
portion is  hencefoi*ward  deteimined  by  the  measure 
of  our  reciprocation.  In  the  first  verse  of  this 
psalm  David  profeyses,  "  I  will  love  Thee,  O  Lord, 
my  strength  "  ;  and  God  responded  to  that  love — 
'*  He  delighted  in  me."  We  often  return  God's 
love  coldly,  but  He  returns  ours  with  swift  and 


192  Justification  by  Works 

glowing  delight.  As  rve  trust  God  He  mil  succour 
us.  The  second  verse  of  this  psalm  shows  how 
David  trusted  God,  and  if  we  read  on  we  see 
how  fully  God  honoured  his  faith.  Bunyan's 
pilgrim  was  told  that  he  would  find  the  river 
deeper  or  shallower  "  according  to  his  faith  in  the 
King  of  the  place."  So  it  is  ever.  A  great  faith 
sinks  Alpine  ranges  to  a  plain,  it  crosses  Atlantic 
depths  dryshod.  The  lack  of  such  faith  entangles 
us  in  many  embarrassments  and  miseries.  As 
rve  serve  God  He  will  requite  ns.  "  For  all  His 
judgments  were  before  me,  and  I  did  not  put 
away  His  statutes  from  me"  (ver.  22).  A  lofty 
standard !  And  according  to  the  cleanness  of  his 
hands  in  God's  eye  was  he  blessed. 

"  With  what  measure  ye  mete  it  shall  be 
measured  to  you  again."  That  is  true  in  our 
relation  to  God.  According  to  the  measure  of  our 
love,  faith,  and  service  shall  be  our  safety,  strength, 
and  bliss.  Are  any  poor  in  joy,  grace,  power,  and 
peace  ?    Let  them  act  more  generously  toward  God. 

2.  God  deals  with  us  as  we  deal  with  one  another 
(vers.  25,  26).  The  great  truth  taught  in  these  two 
verses  is,  that  God's  dealing  with  us  is  regulated 
by  our  dealing  with  one  another.  This  is  the 
clear,  full  teaching  of  the  whole  of  revelation. 
How  mistaken  are  those  who  imagine  spiritual 
reliaion  to  be  anti-social !     It  is  a  common  com- 


Justification  by  Works  193 

plaint  that  religious  faith  is  a  weakenings  im- 
poverishing, disintegrating  influence  in  social  life  : 
the  love  given  to  God  is  supposed  to  be  subtracted 
from  our  love  to  humanity ;  the  service  rendered 
to  Ihe  kingdom  of  God  is  considered  as  so  much 
f] Idled  from  the  service  of  humanity.  No  mistake 
could  be  greater.  God  does  not  judge  us  apart 
from  society,  but  strictly  in  and  through  our 
relation  to  it.  As  we  deal  with  our  brother 
the  great  Father  deals  with  us.  How  mistaken 
also  are  those  who  imagine  that  religion  is  a 
question  of  ecclesiasticism  rather  than  a  question 
of  social  conduct !  Some  people  are  religious 
without  being  good ;  that  is,  they  are  not  kind 
to  their  fellows,  just,  generous,  truthful,  helpful. 
This  will  not  do.  A  true  Christian  is  both  religious 
and  good.  He  who  robs  his  brother,  if  he  were 
clever  enough  would  rob  God ;  he  who  oppresses 
his  brother  would  subvert  the  throne  of  heaven,  if 
he  were  only  strong  enough ;  he  who  dishonours 
or  pains  his  brother  would  not  hesitate  to  wrong 
Deity,  if  there  were  any  door  of  escape.  God  does 
not  test  us  by  our  ecclesiastical  life,  but  by  our 
•ocial,  human  life. 

Social  duty  and  spiritual  prosperity  are  closely 

ralated.     Do  we  feel  that  we  are  not  satisfactorily 

growing  in  grace,  that  we  are   not  enjoying   the 

sunshine  of  God's  face,  that  our  spiritual  life  suffers 

SERIES  I.  13 


194  Justification  by  Works 

an  abatement  of  intensity,  that  our  peace  Is  no 
longer  deep,  our  hope  no  longer  bright?  May 
it  not  be  that  we  have  failed  in  our  duty  to 
our  neiglibour?  When  we  suffer  stagnation  of 
spii'itual  life,  we  search  for  the  reason  in  the 
neglect  of  Church  fellowship  or  worship,  the  read- 
ing of  God's  word  or  of  t!)e  sacraments;  but  the 
reason  will  just  as  often  be  found  in  our  failure  to 
do  justly  and  to  love  mercy  in  our  social  i-elation. 

3.  God  deals  with  us  as  we  deal  with  ourselves. 
"  I  was  also  upright  before  Him,  and  I  kept  my- 
self from  mine  iniquity  "  (ver.  23).  As  we  honour 
ourselves  by  keeping  ourselves  pure,  God  honours 
us  by  abundance  of  grace  and  peace.  There  is  a 
true  sense  in  which  He  accepts  us  according  to  our 
own  valuation.  If  we  reverence  our  body,  hallow 
our  gifts,  prize  our  fair  name,  esteem  our  time  and 
influence  as  choice  treasure,  God  follows  up  such 
self-respect  by  great  spiritual  enrichment  and 
blessing.  How  can  we  expect  the  gifts  of  God  to 
be  multiplied  to  us  when  we  show  little  sense 
of  His  grace  and  goodness  in  the  splendid  gifts 
already  summed  up  in  our  personality }  If  we 
defile  the  temple  of  God,  which  temple  we  are, 
how  can  we  expect  the  Lord  of  the  temple  to 
reveal  Himself  in  indwelling  light,  riches,  and  glad- 
ness }  If  we  would  realise  the  fulness  of  the  blessing, 
we  must  respect  ourselves  and  keep  from  iniquity. 


XXVIII 

A  MEDITATION  FOR  THE 
NEW  YEAR 

The  king  answered  and  said,  I  know  of  certainty  that  ye 
would  gain  the  time. — Dan.  ii.  8. 

The  magicians  are  in  deep  perplexity.  The  king 
had  forgotten  his  dream,  and  they  could  not  recall 
it  to  his  memory.  He  promises  them  great  things 
if  they  succeed  in  reminding  him ;  he  threatens 
them  with  death  if  they  fail.  "They  answered 
agaia"  (ver.  7).  Then  comes  the  text.  The 
magicians  wished  to  gain  time,  hoping  that  the 
king  might  remember  his  dream,  or  that  something 
might  happen  to  extricate  them  from  the  dreadful 
dilemma.  Notice  the  two  main  thoughts  and  the 
suggestions  suitable  to  the  season. 

I.  Time  is  on  man's  side.  We  are  often  made  to 
feel  this.  Men  of  the  world  know  how  precious 
sometimes  is  an  extension  of  credit  for  a  month,  a 
week,  a  day,  even  an  hour.  Give  the  perplexed 
man  time,  and  he  will  know  how  to  act ;  give  the 

106 


196     A  Meditation  for  the  New  Year 

embarrassed  man  time,  and  he  may  find  a  way  out 
of  his  difficulties.  "It  is  all  a  question  of  time." 
On  the  higher  plane  of  things  this  is  specially 
true.  Morally  speaking,  time  is  of  infinite  con- 
sequence to  us. 

1.  Time  is  another  word  for  mercy.  So  long  as 
we  enjoy  the  shelter  of  time,  we  are  safe  from 
the  judgments  which  our  sins  have  provoked. 
All  the  retributive  suffering  of  this  life  is  hght 
indeed  compared  with  the  retributions  which  await 
the  transgressor  farther  on;  it  is  but  the  spilling 
of  the  red  vials.  "  Flee  from  the  wrath  to  come." 
The  fulness  of  penalty  is  reserved.  This  life 
is  the  measure  of  divine  forbearance — the  earth 
is  a  mercy-seat,  the  sky  overshadowing  wings. 
A  "living  man"  must  not  complain  for  the 
punishment  of  his  sins,  for  mercy  here  and  now 
forbids  the  wrath  that  threatens  the  guilty  to  the 
uttermost. 

2.  Time  is  another  word  for  opportunity.  It  is  not 
bare  duration  that  is  granted  us,  but  a  period  rich 
in  influences,  succours,  instrumentalities,  and  in- 
spirations. To  say  that  time  is  lengthened  out  is 
to  say  that  the  word  of  God  is  continued  to  us, 
the  means  of  grace,  the  privilege  of  prayer,  the 
influences  of  the  Spirit,  all  the  fulness  of  the  bless- 
ing of  the  redeeming  gospel.  "  Buying  up  the 
opportunity,"  we  find  oui-selves  in  a  rich  market. 


A  Meditation  for  the  New  Year     197 

Life  teems  with  chances  of  getting  good  and  doing 
good.  Many  sellers  press  upon  us  splendid  wares. 
Without  money  and  without  price  we  may  buy  that 
which  is  better  than  rubies. 

3.  Time  is  another  word  for  hope.  Whilst  time 
is  granted,  wondevful  changes  are  possible.  The 
prodigal  may  return,  llie  maimed  be  made  whole, 
the  lost  be  found,  the  dead  live  !  Within  the  time- 
limit  there  is  hope  for  all,  hope  most  glorious. 

II.  The  period  approaches  when  time  can  no 
LONGER  BE  ON  OUR  SIDE.  It  was  thus  with  thesc  Magi ; 
they  had  nearly  exhausted  the  king's  patience.  An 
end  comes  necessarily  to  all  respites.  The  business 
man  in  difficulties  gains  time,  the  bill  is  renewed,  it 
is  again  and  again  renewed ;  but  the  inexorable  day 
dawns.  So  a  limit  is  fixed  to  the  opportunities  of 
the  religious  life.  This  is  the  day  of  our  visitation. 
In  worldly  things  we  "  make  hay  whilst  the  sun 
shines  "  ;  and  whilst  Christ  the  Sun  of  suns  shines 
upon  us  we  must  work  out  our  salvation,  for  the 
night  cometh.  The  dispensation  of  mercy  and 
opportunity  is  soon  past.  Long  ages  may  elapse 
before  the  angel  of  the  Apocalypse  shatters  the 
hour-glass  of  old  Time ;  but  to  us  personally  how 
soon  time  will  be  no  longer!  "A  httle  time" 
seems  a  modest  request ;  yet  directly  it  cannot 
be  granted  to  us — not  a  day,  not  an  hour,  not  a 
moment. 


198     A  Meditation  for  the  New  Year 

1.  Most  appropriate  to  the  season  is  the  spirit  of 
thankfulness.  All  have  reason  to  thank  God  for  the 
past  year.  The  Christian  disciple  has  cause  to 
glorify  God  for  the  magnificent,  long-drawn-out 
gift.  A  precious  space  has  been  afforded  in  which 
to  multiply  our  knowledge  and  righteousness.  The 
psalmist  prayed,  "  O  sjjare  me,  that  I  may  recover 
strength,  before  I  go  hence,  and  be  no  more."  He 
wished  for  a  full  opportunity  to  gather  to  himself 
strength  that  he  might  be  equal  to  the  great, 
imknown  future,  that  he  might  be  fit  to  see  God's 
face.  God  has  mercifully  gi-anted  us  a  complete 
year  of  privilege  and  discijiline.  "  Th}'  saints  shall 
bless  Thee."  They  bless  Thee  for  the  sweet 
spring,  the  opulent  summer,  the  mellow  autumn, 
the  stern  winter,  and  for  those  larger,  richer 
spaces  of  heavenly  blessing  which  accompany  the 
circling  year.  They  bless  Thee  for  three  hundred 
and  sixty-five  days  and  nights  burdened  with 
spiritual  benediction  and  hallowing  influence. 
The  unconverted  also  have  reason  to  thank  God 
for  sparing  mercy.  Job  asks,  "  Why  do  the  wicked 
live,  and  become  old  }  "  There  is  but  one  answer ; 
Because  God  delighteth  in  mercy.  Oh  the  pre- 
ciousness  of  the  kind  reprieve !  Oh  the  folly 
that  has  wasted  it !  The  year  nineteen  hundred 
came  as  a  bri;',lit  nn-ssenger  from  Cod;  now  it 
lies  hke  a   murdered   prophet,  its  rejected  mes- 


A  Meditation  for  the  New  "Year     199 

sage  in  its  hand.  At  last  cry  with  the  psalmist, 
"  Return  unto  thy  rest,  O  my  soul ;  for  the  Lord 
hath  dealt  bountifully  with  thee.  For  Thou  hast 
delivered  my  soid  from  death,  mine  eyes  from 
tears,  and  my  feet  Iroui  ialling.  I  will  walk 
before  the  Lord  in  the  land  of  the  Uving." 

2.  The  spirit  of  huniUiallon  becomes  us.  How 
much  more  good  we  might  have  gained  !  "  What 
profit  hath  he  that  worketh  in  that  wherein  he 
labourcth  } "  If  we  are  wise,  profit  in  it  all — 
added  knowledge,  strength,  purity,  gladness.  But 
we  often  failed  to  reap  the  harvest  which  solicited 
us.  How  much  more  good  we  might  have  done  ! 
"  Redeeming  the  time,  because  the  days  are  evil." 
We  have  a  great  work  to  do,  sin  and  misery  on  every 
hand  ;  yet  often  have  we  let  the  opportunity  slip. 
There  has  recently  been  a  movement  for  utilising 
railway  cuttings  and  embankments.  These  unpro- 
ductive lands  are  to  be  let  to  husbandmen ;  it  is 
contended  that  quite  a  harvest  of  precious  fruits 
might  be  gathered  from  this  waste  soil.  How 
many  waste  places  in  our  past  life  might  have 
borne  golden  fruits  had  we  been  more  faithful ! 
Instead  of  ending  the  year  with  a  bosom  full  of 
sheaves,  too  many  of  us  with  sliamefacedness  bring 
to  God  only  a  few  blighted  ears  and  withered 
leaves. 

3.  The  season  demands  the  spirit  of  consecration. 


200     A  Meditation  for  the  New  Year 

New  scenes  and  opportunities  open  to  us  ;  let  us  be 
faithful,  and  God  shall  restore  unto  us  the  years 
that  the  caterpillar  has  wasted.  If  we  heartily 
give  ourselves  to  Him,  we  shall  no  more  complain 
of  the  tedium  of  life.  Whether  life  is  worth  living 
depends  upon  how  we  live  it.  I  low  short  are 
seven  years  to  a  man  in  free,  busy  life,  each  day 
bringing  new  duties,  new  excitements,  new 
pleasures !  Now  summer  with  its  blue  skies,  its 
gay  flowers,  its  excursions  to  fields  and  sea ;  now 
winter  with  its  entertainments  and  fellowships. 
The  seven  years  go  like  a  pleasant  dream.  But 
think  of  seven  years  on  the  treadmill !  No  changes, 
no  fresh  interests,  no  duties  kindling  the  glow  of 
the  soul.  The  same  hard  faces,  stone  walls,  iron 
doors,  grating  sounds,  insipid  meals,  and  terrible 
silences.  No  summer,  no  winter,  no  sun,  no  moon. 
How  bitter  the  horrid  years !  Life  with  God, 
based  on  noble  principles  and  bi-ightened  with 
great  hopes,  is  delightful,  and  glides  away  swiftly  on 
feet  of  down ;  but  life  without  faith,  with  no  large 
purpose  in  it,  without  the  sublime  sense  of  lofty 
duty  and  immortal  hope,  is  the  life  of  a  prisoner 
grinding  in  the  mill. 

Living  to  God  and  in  His  service,  we  may  feel 
the  closing  in  of  life  without  regret.  Charles 
Dixon  says :  **  Autunm  is  more  apt  to  fill  a 
contemplative  mind  with   sorrow  than  any  other 


A  Meditation  for  the  New  Year     201 

season :  yet  nature  knows  no  sadness  in  all  this 
quiet  decay ;  each  leaf  and  each  bloom  has  com- 
pleted its  mission,  and  not  one  of  them  will  fall 
in  vain."  How  entirely  true  is  this  of  a  noble 
lifel 


XXIX 
QUICKENING  GRACE 

My  soul  cleaveth  unto  the  dust:  quicken  Thou  me  ac- 
cording to  Thy  word. — Ps.  cxix,  25. 

I.  The  psalmist's  complaint  calls  for  attention. 
"  My  soul  cleaveth  unto  the  dust."  This  is  the 
complaint  of  one — 

1.  Conscious  of  the  spirit  of  worW/inew.  Worldli- 
ness  is  a  false  relation  to  human  creatures  and  to 
worldly  things.  There  is  a  true  sense  in  which  we 
have  to  do  with  the  dust — a  true  relation  to  the 
world  and  the  things  of  the  world  ;  but  the  evil  is 
in  cleaving  to  the  dust.  "  Dust " — that  is,  a  worldly 
life  with  no  divine  life  in  it,  a  worldly  life  with  no 
soul  hfe  in  it,  a  woi'ldly  hfe  with  no  eternal  life 
in  it.  The  psalmist  mourns  over  his  tendency 
toward  such  an  unspiritualised  life.  And  indeed 
an  unspiritual  life  is  most  deplorable. 

It  is  an  unnatural  thing :  a  soul  cleaving  to 
dud.  Alas !  a  common  thing,  yet  it  is  none  the 
less  terribly  unnatural.     At  the  grave  we  hear  the 

solenm    words,   "  Ashes    to    ashes,   dust    to   dust." 

202 


Quickening  Grace  203 

Yes,  that  is  right,  so  let  it  be.  Like  to  Hke — the 
earthy  to  the  earthy,  the  perishable  to  the  perish- 
able. But  "  the  soul  of  our  departed  brother "  is 
not  consigned  to  the  dust;  it  is  commended  to 
God,  dismissed  to  the  bosom  of  the  sky.  Now,  as 
in  death,  so  ought  it  to  be  in  life :  "  ashes  to 
ashes,"  but  not  souls  to  ashes,  not  spirits  to  dust. 
It  is  unnatural  that  the  immortal  should  be  loaded 
with  thick  clay.  The  living  soul  must  see,  clasp, 
serve,  and  rejoice  in  the  living  God. 

For  the  soul  to  cleave  to  the  dust  is  a  dishonour- 
able thing.  Dust  is  a  synonym  for  degradation,  and 
no  degradation  can  be  greater  than  to  subordinate 
the  spirit  to  things  and  relations  which  it  ought  to 
use  and  rule.  The  essential  degradation  is  to  walk 
after  the  flesh  and  to  mind  earthly  things.  Dust  is 
always  an  indignity,  whether  it  be  the  gold  dust 
called  wealth,  the  painted  dust  called  beauty,  the 
spiced  dust  called  appetite,  the  jewel  dust  called 
honour,  or  the  sculptured  dust  bodied  forth  under 
the  forms  known  as  art,  science,  and  literature. 
It  is  the  deepest,  bitterest  humiliation  to  make 
one's  soul  in  any  wise  dependent  upon  the  fashion 
of  a  world  which  passeth  away. 

To  cleave  to  the  dust  is  a  destructive  thing. 
Dust  is  a  synonym  for  death,  and  cleaving  to  the 
dust  implies  the  death  of  the  spirit.  "Quicken 
Thou  me."     Tliat  is  the  language  of  a  man  who 


204  Quickening  Grace 

is  conscious  of  being  some  way  on  the  road  to 
death.  If  we  do  not  watch,  the  worldly  life  will 
eat  into  our  higher  nature,  and  in  a  dreadful  sense 
we  shall  be  dead  while  we  live.  The  rich  fool 
soliloquises,  '^Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up 
for  many  years ;  take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink, 
and  be  merry."  This  man  had  gone  all  the 
way,  and  had  utterly  confounded  the  soul  with 
the  senses.  It  is  so  easy  to  do.  Being  too  much 
with  the  world,  coveting  it,  finding  our  pleasure 
in  it,  forgetting  its  higher  uses,  we  lose  our 
spiritual  insights,  sensibilities,  strivings,  delights, 
and  become  of  the  earth  earthy.  To  be  carnally- 
minded  is  death  to  all  the  nobler  senses. 

2.  The  psalmist  in  this  passage  is  conscious  of 
the  bondage  of  sorrow  as  well  as  of  the  spirit  of 
worldliness.  Cleaving  to  the  dust  suggests  sitting 
in  dust  and  ashes,  as  Job  did  when  he  was 
overwhelmed  with  grief.  Let  no  one  think  that 
this  is  a  subject  quite  distinct  from  the  one  just 
discussed.  The  heaviest,  deadliest  son*ow  of  life 
springs  out  of  our  false  relation  to  human  creatures 
and  worldly  things.  This  is  not,  of  course,  true 
of  all  sorrow.  There  is  a  sorrow  that  is  a  sacred 
thing,  without  taint  of  selfishness  or  earthliness, 
that  brings  no  condemnation,  that  is  as  holy  as  the 
purest  joy,  that  draws  to  the  stars  rather  than 
binds  to  the  dust,  that  tends  only  to  spirituality. 


Quickening  Grace  205 

that  renders  our  fellowship  with  Christ  more 
tender  and  brings  the  bruised  spirit  nearer  to  God. 
But  many  sorrows  spring  from  an  over-estimate  of 
earthly  things,  and  veiy  cruel  these  sorrows  are. 
If  we  loved  the  world  less,  many  woes  would 
cease  to  consume  and  exhaust  us.  If  we  thought 
more  of  the  honour  that  cometh  from  God,  we 
should  be  less  troubled  by  the  reproach  of  men ; 
if  we  thought  more  of  the  treasures  of  the  soul, 
we  should  be  less  afflicted  by  the  moth  and  rust 
which  dissolve  material  treasures ;  if  we  lived 
more  in  the  higher  world  of  thought  and  feeling, 
we  should  be  less  affected  by  the  ebb  and  flow  of 
an  ever-changing  world  of  shadows  and  echoes. 
Very  wise  and  necessary  is  the  prayer  : 

From  sin  and  sorrow  set  us  free, 
And  make  Thy  temples  worthy  Thee. 

For  many  of  our  sorrows  are  nearly  related  to  sin ; 
they  are  gendered  by  selfishness  and  earthliness, 
and  eat  away  the  nobler  self  as  doth  a  canker. 

II.  The  psalmist's  appeal.  "  Quicken  Thou  me 
according  to  Thy  word."  Tliis  appeal  is  to  the 
right  source.  We  cannot  emancipate  ourselves 
from  the  lust  of  the  eye,  the  lust  of  the  flesh, 
and  the  pride  of  life ;  we  cannot  lift  ourselves 
out  of  the  sorrow  of  the  world  which  worketh 
death. 


2o6  Quickening  Grace 

1.  God  quickens  us  by  granting  new  insight  into 
the  highest  truth.  The  perception  ot  a  great  truth 
invigorates  our  whole  nature.  "  With  Thee  is  the 
fountain  of  life :  in  Thy  light  shall  we  see  light." 
Here  the  psalmist  associates  life  with  light,  and  in 
our  experience  we  often  prove  the  truth  of  this. 
When  our  spirit  is  barren,  when  our  joys  droop, 
when  all  freshness  and  fruitfulness  of  feeling  are 
lost,  insight  into  a  great  truth  revives  us  as  the 
grass  springs  in  the  sweet  shining  after  rain.  We 
see  the  deeper  reasons  of  things,  we  grasp  the 
grander  facts,  we  hear  the  music  of  lost  chords, 
and  live  again.  When  John  Stuart  Mill  lost  all 
interest  in  things,  when  every  blossom  of  hope  and 
joy  had  withered,  the  charm  and  thrill  of  life  were 
recovered  by  him  through  the  reading  of  Words- 
worth's poems ;  and  if  the  words  of  a  gifted  singef 
can  thus  revive  a  weary  soul,  how  much  more  His 
words  which  are  spirit  and  life !  When  God  opens 
our  eyes  to  see  wonderful  things  out  of  His  law, 
the  power  of  sense  is  broken  and  we  walk  at 
libei-ty.  Conscious  of  a  growing  worldliness,  let 
us  pray  that  our  interior  vision  may  be  afresh 
unsealed,  and  that  we  may  once  more  look 
directly  upon  the  things  that  are  unseen  and 
eternal. 

2.  God  quickens  us  by  kiitdling  in  us  a  new  affec~ 
tion  to  Himself  and  to  whatever  rejlects  Him.     When 


Quickening  Grace  207 

the  love  of  God  is  shed  abroad  in  the  heart,  the 
power  and  tyranny  of  terrestrial  life  abate.  A 
cold  magnet  attracts  to  itself  a  variety  of  sub- 
stances ;  but  if  heated,  its  magnetic  force  gradually 
diminishes,  until  having  attained  a  white  heat  it 
ceases  altogether  to  attract.  What  a  wonderful 
magnet  is  the  heart  of  man !  It  draws  to  itself 
silver  and  gold,  houses  and  lands,  wreaths  of  fame, 
the  purple  of  honour,  pleasure's  roses,  the  dainties 
of  luxury,  all  the  while  aching  with  its  task  of 
drawing  and  bearing ;  but  as  God  quickens  the 
believing  heart  with  spiritual  life,  warms  it  with 
divine  fire,  makes  it  glow  in  the  sense  of  His 
presence  and  love,  its  terrestrial  magnetism  dies 
down,  untU  at  last,  in  the  white  heat  of  a  perfect 
love,  a  perfect  spirituality,  and  a  perfect  purity,  it 
attracts  to  itself  no  longer  the  coarser  things  of 
earth,  finding  its  final  rest  and  complete  satisfac- 
tion in  God  and  in  His  love.  When  the  affections 
are  warmed  with  the  revival  of  the  purer  flame, 
there  is  little  fear  of  an  overmastering  worldliness, 
and  sorrow  and  sighing  flee  away. 

3.  God  quickens  us  by  tnspin?ig  us  with  a  new 
hope.  In  the  decay  of  the  higher  faith  and  hope 
the  world  grows  upon  us  apace ;  but  when  the 
God  of  hoiie  fills  us  with  hope  there  is  little 
chance  for  the  baser  appetites  and  fashions. 

If  we  are   suffering    from   any  sense  of  failing 


2o8  Quickening  Grace 

spirituality,  any  sense  of  an  ebbing  gladness,  let 
us  turn  afresh  to  the  exceeding  great  and  precious 
promises  of  God.  We  are  always  needing  that  the 
grandest  things  should  be  made  real  to  us  again, 
and  that  they  should  fully  occupy  the  soul. 

Can  peach  renew  lost  bloom  ? 

Or  violet  lost  perfume  ? 

Or  sullied  snow  turn  white  as  overnight? 

Man  cannot  compass  it ;  yet  never  fear ; 

The  leper  Naaman 

Shows  what  God  will  and  can  •. 

God  who  worked  there  is  working  here ; 

Wherefore  let  shame,  not  gloom,  betinge  thy  brow. 

God  who  worked  then  is  working  now. 


XXX 

THE  DIRGE  OF  THE  HARVEST 

As    snow    In    summer,    and    as    rain    in    harvest. — Prov. 
xxvi.    I. 

It  is  not  in  every  field  that  the  song  of  the  reaper 
is  lieard,  and  that  the  merry  gleaners  wander  after 
their  own  sweet  will  gathering  the  dropped  ears 
of  gold.  Coming  along  the  rail  one  day  we  saw 
many  fields  where  the  corn  was  unreaped  in  con- 
sequence of  the  rain,  and  in  which  the  sheaves 
stood  black  and  rotting,  soaked  with  wet.  It  is 
sweet  to  look  upon  a  field  of  com  ripe  for  the 
sickle ;  there  we  see  the  abundance  of  the  great 
Giver  and  the  infinite  grace  with  which  He  gives  . 
but  a  blighted  harvest-field  is  one  of  the  sad 
sights  of  a  world  that  never  lacks  sad  sights. 
There  is  something  deeply  perplexing  in  the 
presence  of  so  much  fruit  and  beauty  withering 
in  the  very  hour  destined  for  their  consummation. 
It  provokes  ti'oubled  thoughts  about  Him  who 
sends  the  sunshine  and  the  rain.  It  is  a  painful 
^'ar  in  the  music  of  the  world.  The  whole  mystery 
SKRiEs  I.  14 


2IO         The  Dirge  of  the  Harvest 

of  evil   is   mournfully  expressed   in  the  soddened 
sheaf. 

Life  often  reminds  us  of  the  blighted  harvest- 
field.  Sorrow  comes  exactly  when  and  where  we 
expected  sunshine  and  song.  I  remember  having 
once  seen  it  snow  at  Palermo  at  a  season  of  the 
year  when  such  an  event  was  rare  indeed.  It  was 
a  strange  sight  to  watch  the  frozen  flakes  mingling 
with  the  gorgeous  vegetation,  lighting  on  the 
blooming  flowers,  the  gay  blossoms,  and  the 
odorous  leaves.  But  "  snow  in  harvest "  is  a 
common  experience  in  this  chequered  life.  The 
voice  of  weeping  breaks  in  on  our  music.  Our 
hfe-work  is  blasted  just  when  it  was  fullest  of 
promise.  We  put  into  our  luidertakings  our  best 
judgment,  much  patience  and  self-denial,  and,  just 
when  we  thought  to  reap,  the  storm  and  the  mil- 
dew spoiled  everything.  It  is  very  hard  for  the 
farmer  to  look  at  those  rows  of  sheaves  rotting  in 
the  rain ;  and  most  of  us  have  to  bewail  purposes 
which  have  been  broken  off,  lives  which  have  been 
cut  off,  and  which  have  cost  us  bitter  teai-s.  Death 
sometimes  surprises  us,  taking  away  those  loved 
ones  on  whom  we  bestowed  so  much  pains  and  in 
whom  centred  our  fondest  hopes.  The  harvest  is 
ripe,  but  the  wrong  reaper  comes.  How  unutter- 
ably sorrowful  it  is  when  parents  have  spent  so 
much  pains  on  their  children    to  see   them  fade 


The  Dirge  of  the  Harvest         211 

away  and  leave  only  a  grave  !  Life  has  many  song- 
less  spaces.  There  is  a  time  for  everything,  the 
wise  man  assures  us ;  yet  the  seasons  get  sadly 
mixed,  and  the  snow  chills  the  flowers,  the  winter 
nips  the  glory  of  the  summer,  the  rain  rots  the 
harvest,  in  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death. 

We  must  not  feel,  however,  that  anything  is  really 
wrong.  At  the  harvest  festival  the  rotten  sheaf  is 
not  brought  forward  for  church  decoration ;  they 
carefully  leave  out  on  those  occasions  the  withered 
cluster,  the  blasted  branch,  the  corn  spoiled  by  the 
storm.  But  there  is  a  deep  cause  for  thankfulness 
even  in  things  dramatically  ruined.  The  wasted 
harvest-fields  of  life  shall  bear  everlasting  flowers 
and  fruits  of  paradise.  Songs  spoiled  here  are  only 
postponed,  and  shall  be  set  to  higher  music.  The 
deep  melancholy  that  creeps  over  us  when  we 
witness  perishing  harvests,  smitten  fortunes,  and 
early  graves  is  rebuked  by  Christian  faith  and 
hope.  It  would  not  do  for  all  the  fields  of  the 
world  to  overflow  with  com;  the  nations  would 
become  luxurious  and  effeminate  ;  toil,  difficulty, 
danger,  and  loss  discipline  humanity  into  diviner 
strength  and  peace.  The  gloomy,  silent  acres 
with  their  mildewed  sheaves  enrich  the  race  at 
least  equally  with  the  sunny  fields  whose  ripe 
treasures  are  gathered  into  the  garner. 


XXXI 

THE  ORDER  OF  THE  JUNIPER- 
TREE 

But  he  himself  went  a  clay's  journey  into  the  wilderness, 
and  came  and  sat  down  under  a  juniper-tree :  and  he  requested 
for  himself  that  he  might  die  ;  and  said,  It  is  enough  ;  now, 
O  Lord,  take  away  my  life ;  for  I  am  not  better  than  my 
fathers. — i  Kings  xix.  4. 

And  it  came  to  pass,  as  they  still  went  on,  and  talked,  that, 
behold,  there  appeared  a  chariot  of  fire,  and  horses  of  fire,  and 
parted  them  both  asunder ;  and  Elijah  went  up  by  a  whirl- 
wind into  heaven. — 2  Kings  ii.  11. 

Some  while  ago  in  passing  through  Edinburgh  we 
noticed  the  procession  of  a  friendly  society  whose 
banner  declared  it  to  belong  to  the  Order  of  the 
Juniper-tree.  Many  of  us  belong  to  that  order, 
and  it  may  prove  useful  to  consider  the  suggestive 
contrast  established  by  these  two  texts.  In  the 
one,  the  prophet  sinks  in  despair ;  in  the  other, 
he  is  carried  triumphantly  into  heaven.  What  has 
this  to  do  with  us  ?  It  presents  in  a  dramatic  form 
the  experience  of  God's  people  in  all  ages. 

L  The  sharp  contrast  in  these  texts  is  worthy  of 

213 


The  Order  of  the  Juniper-Tree     2 1 3 

being  remembered  in  days  of  worldly  adversity. 
Times  of  misfortune  and  disaster  not  uncommonly 
induce  the  mood  expressed  in  the  first  text.  Hav- 
ing suffered  the  wreck  of  our  circumstances,  schemes, 
happiness,  and  hopes,  we  court  the  shade  of  the 
juniper-tree  and  pour  out  bitter  lamentations. 
What  is  there  to  live  for?  We  are  failures,  and 
the  sooner  we  are  out  of  the  way  the  bettei'.  But 
whilst  we  bewail  ourselves,  let  us  not  forget  these 
two  points  : 

1.  It  is  only  through  discipline  that  we  are  fit 
for  glorification.  Cars  of  fire,  horses  of  fire,  a  path 
beyond  the  stars,  luminous  diadems !  we  are  pre- 
sumptuous enough  to  think  that  at  any  time  we 
are  ready  for  these.  But  we  are  not  ready.  The 
perfection  that  qualifies  for  high  places  comes  only 
through  some  form  of  suffering.  The  sons  of 
Zebedee  aspired  to  splendid  seats  in  Christ's  king- 
dom ;  but  the  Master  immediately  reminded  them 
that  only  through  drinking  a  bitter  cup  and  suffer- 
ing a  painful  baptism  would  they  be  made  meet 
for  the  great  destiny  to  wliich  they  aspired. 

2.  Only  God  knows  when  we  are  fit  for  glorifica- 
tion. "  It  is  enough ;  now,  O  Lord,  take  away  my 
life."  Are  we  sure  about  this  enough  ?  When 
you  chastise  a  child,  you  find  that  his  opinion 
and  yours  vary  considerably  as  to  what  is  enough. 
The  riews  of  the  whipped  culprit  are  extremely 


214     The  Order  of  the  Juniper-Tree 

moderate,  and  you  find  it  necessary  to  use  the 
rod  a  little  time  after  his  views  are  more  than 
satisfied.  So  is  it  with  our  heavenly  Father.  He 
only  who  sits  as  a  refiner  and  purifier  of  silver 
knows  when  the  dross  is  gone ;  He  only  who  wields 
the  flail  can  see  when  the  chaff  is  purged ;  only 
the  great  Husbandman  may  determine  when  the 
fruit  is  ripe  for  the  garner.  God  alone  knows 
when  we  are  pure  enough  to  see  His  face,  beautiful 
enough  to  enter  His  heaven,  strong  enough  to  share 
His  eternity. 

Yet  let  us  be  quietly  convinced  of  this,  God 
seeks  to  prepare  us  for  a  great  future.  Elijah 
thinks  to  die  under  a  juniper-tree  when  a  triumph 
has  been  decreed  him.  God  is  always  grand  ia 
His  endings.  Men  startle  us  with  their  begin- 
nings ;  at  once  they  show  their  hand,  and  after  the 
pomp  of  initiation  we  are  disappointed  with  the 
finish.  It  is  exactly  contrary  to  the  method  of 
the  greatest  Worker  of  all.  He  is  usually  modest, 
meagre,  unpromising  in  His  beginnings  ;  but  His 
finishing-touches  make  the  sublime.  It  was  thus 
with  the  creation  of  the  world  :  starting  with  slime 
and  darkness.  He  went  forward  to  firmaments, 
suns,  moons,  stars,  and  the  humanity  that  is  more 
than  all  galaxies.  This  is  God's  order  in  the  world 
still.  Beginning  with  coral  insects  and  earth- 
worms, He  ends  with  rich  landscapes ;  beginning 


The  Order  of  the  Juniper-Tree     2 1 5 

with  specks  of  jelly,  He  works  up  to  splendid 
complex  organisms ;  beginning  with  sober  seeds. 
He  crowns  His  creation  with  the  golden  lilies  and 
burning  roses.  If  we  are  only  faithful,  it  shall  be 
so  with  our  life.  God  does  not  end  with  the 
juniper-tree,  but  with  the  triumphal  car.  The 
"whirlwind"  spreading  niin  is  the  force  which 
uplifts  ;  the  instrument  of  desolation  is  the  vehicle 
of  aggrandisement.  Through  mean  things  and 
terrible  our  Creator  and  Perfecter  advances  to 
glorious  climaxes. 

n.  We  may  remember  the  strong  contrast  of 
these  texts  in  days  of  spiritual  despondency. 
Times  of  deep  depression  come  in  our  spiritual 
history.  Wesley's  new  life  began  in  glorious 
experiences  in  Aldersgate  Street,  yet  within  a 
year  of  these  glowing  feelings  we  find  that  he 
suffered  sad  relapses  into  darkness  and  doubt ;  he 
even  wrote,  "  I  am  not  a  Christian  now."  We  feel 
worsted  in  the  spiritual  conflict,  losing  confidence 
and  hope.  Elijah  had  contended  at  Carmel  with 
the  Baal  worshippers,  and  in  a  glorious  hour  it 
seemed  as  if  the  kingdom  had  been  utterly  and 
finally  purged  from  the  ten-ible  idolatry.  Then 
arose  Jezebel,  and  the  battle  had  to  be  fought 
over  again.  Elijah  fainted  at  the  prospect.  It 
is  sometimes  after  this  manner  with  the  Christian 
believer.     We  imagine  that  we  have  attained  a 


2 1 6     The  Order  of  the  Juniper-Tree 

final  victory  over  our  heathenish  nature ;  in  a 
glorious  hour  we  feel  as  Elijah  felt  at  Carmel 
when  the  false  priests  had  been  put  to  death ; 
then  the  Jezebel  within  us  asserts  herself,  proudly 
threatens  us,  and  we  are  dismayed.  It  seems  as 
if  the  power  of  evil  caimot  be  broken.  We  shall 
never  be  pure,  free,  happy,  saved  to  the  utter- 
most. 

These  sad  days  of  humiliation  and  despondency 
need  not  be  lost  upon  us.  They  bring  home  the 
lesson  of  our  personal  unworthiness  and  helpless- 
ness. "  I  am  not  better  than  my  fathers."  Elijah 
had  played  the  foremost  part  in  an  extraordinary 
scene,  and  he  was  destined  to  continue  a  great 
figure  in  the  histoiy  of  his  nation.  He  was  a  man 
of  like  passions  with  ourselves,  and  lest  he  should 
be  exalted  above  measure  it  was  necessary  that 
he  should  vividly  realise  his  personal  limitations. 
And  he  learnt  the  lesson  of  his  weakness  and  un- 
worthiness. "  I  am  not  better  than  my  fathers." 
He  had  found  out  that.  "He  requested  that  he 
might  die."  He  did  die.  He  died  to  self.  The 
juniper-tree  was  the  cross  on  which  he  died  to 
self-admiration,  self-confidence,  self-righteousness ; 
and  henceforth  he  knew  that  power,  courage,  and 
victory  were  not  in  himself,  but  in  the  Lord  God 
before  whom  he  stood.  That  is  the  lesson  we 
all  need  to  learn.     We   are  not  fit  for  exaltation 


The  Order  of  the  Juniper-Tree     217 

until  we  have  passed  through  this  humiliation— 
this  innermost^  uttermost  self-renunciation.  God 
must  teach  us  this ;  and  happy  are  they  who  die 
to  self  that  they  may  live  unto  Hira.  Let  us  be 
humbled  to  the  dust,  and  yet  not  despair  even 
then.  The  juniper-tree  is  all  very  well,  but  we 
must  not  hang  ourselves  upon  it. 

You  wail,  I  shall  never  be  fully  recovered  to  God, 
I  shall  never  reach  heaven.  Be  of  good  courage, 
you  shall.  A  gx-eat  multitude  in  white  raiment 
stand  above  us,  and  in  due  season  we  shall  join 
them.  They  were  lifted  into  a  heaven  of  purity,  a 
heaven  of  power,  a  heaven  of  eternal  blessedness ; 
and  in  the  fulness  of  the  time  we  shall  share  their 
triumph.  "  Being  confident  of  this  very  thing, 
that  He  which  hath  begun  a  good  work  in  you  will 
perform  it  until  the  day  of  Jesus  Christ."  What  a 
dismal  ending  some  of  us  cut  out  for  ourselves  !  If 
we  think  of  horses,  it  is  about  the  black  ones  with 
long  tails ;  the  only  chariots  we  discern  are  bath- 
chairs  and  hearses ;  our  vision  is  bounded  by  the 
cemetery  wall.  Yet  how  different  shall  it  be ! 
Elijah  did  not  see  death,  and  to  us  in  a  no  less 
glorious  sense  shall  death  be  swallowed  up  in 
victory. 

III.  We  may  remember  the  strong  contrast  of 
our  texts  in  days  when  we  are  disappointed  by 

THE     RESULTS     OF     OUR    EVANGKI.irAI.    WORK.  Elijah 


2 1 8     The  Order  of  the  Juniper-Tree 

was  smitten  with  despair  about  God's  cause. 
The  scornful,  scorching  words  of  the  wicked 
and  wrathful  queen  unmanned  him.  All  his  grand 
hopes  for  his  nation  and  race  were  to  expire  at 
the  juniper-tree.  And  very  often  do  the  strong- 
est and  best  of  men  entertain  similar  misgivings. 
Eternal  justice  threatens  to  fail ;  iniquity  seems 
to  outmatch  truth  and  righteousness ;  the  most 
passionate  and  decisive  efforts  to  bless  and  save 
end  apparently  in  abject  discomfiture.  Many  and 
strange  are  the  disasters  which  overtake  spiritual 
endeavours.  Sterling  workers  are  snatched  away 
in  the  crisis  when  their  presence  and  influence 
ai*e  most  vital;  resources  are  dried  up  just  when 
most  needed ;  persecution  breaks  out  and  the 
fields  are  blighted  in  the  very  hour  when  they 
begin  to  bloom.  Infernal  ingenuity  and  wrath 
perpetually  embarrass  and  checkmate  the  kingdom 
of  God.  It  is  not  merely  the  ordinary  difficulty 
attending  every  kind  of  endeavour  in  this  world 
of  change  and  chance;  an  extraordinary,  mys- 
terious hostility  and  fatality  seem  to  pursue  all 
noble  and  evangelical  effort  and  to  plot  its  ruin. 
Before  these  ever -recurring  and  disheartening 
arrestments  and  collapses  of  the  work  of  God  the 
faith  of  His  servants  is  ready  to  fail.  Mocked  by 
the  irony  of  events,  exhausted  by  ploughing  the 
sands,  disenchanted  and  paralysed  by  unexpected 


The  Order  of  the  Juniper-Tree     219 

reverses  and  postponements,  the  boldest  and  most 
zealous  workers  are  confounded. 

Yet  Elijah  was  wrong.  God  works  strangely. 
He  works  silently.  He  works  slowly,  but  He  works 
surely.  The  funeral  was  not  to  be  that  of  Elijah. 
Let  us  see  the  end  of  Ahab.  "  And  a  certain  man 
drew  his  bow  at  a  venture,  and  smote  the  king  of 
Israel  between  the  joints  of  the  harness.  ...  So 
the  king  died,  and  was  brought  to  Samaria ;  and 
they  buried  the  king  in  Samaria.  And  they 
washed  the  chariot  by  the  pool  of  Samaria ;  and 
the  dogs  licked  up  his  blood ;  (now  the  harlots 
washed  themselves  there  ;)  according  unto  the  word 
of  the  Lord  which  He  spake"  (l  Kings  xxii. 
34-38,  R,V.).  Now  see  the  end  of  Jezebel. 
"And  when  Jehu  was  come  to  Jezreel,  Jezebel 
heard  of  it ;  and  she  painted  her  eyes,  and  tired 
her  head,  and  looked  out  at  the  window.  .  .  .  And 
Jehu  said.  Throw  her  down.  So  they  threw  her 
down  :  and  some  of  her  blood  was  spiinkled  on  the 
wall,  and  on  the  horses :  and  he  trode  her  under 
foot.  .  .  .  And  they  went  to  bury  her:  but  they 
found  no  more  of  her  than  the  skull,  and  the  feet, 
and  the  palms  of  her  hands  "  (2  Kings  ix.  30-37). 
And  now  turn  to  the  translation  of  Elijah.  "  And 
it  came  to  pass,  as  they  still  went  on,  and  talked, 
that,  behold,  there  appeared  a  chariot  of  fire,  and 
horses  of  fire,  and  parted  them  both  asunder ;  and 


220     The  Order  of  the  Juniper-Tree 

Elijah  -went  up  by  a  whirlwind  into  heaven."  A 
triumphal  ascent  to  gloiy,  honour,  and  immortality. 
It  shall  be  thus  to  the  end  of  the  world.  The 
juniper-tree  is  sometimes  the  halting-place  of 
God's  kingdom,  but  never  its  terminus.  The 
Church  ends  with  horses  and  chariots  of  fire. 

The  one  thing  we  must  resolve  upon  is  not  to 
reason  and  question,  but  confidently  to  follow  out 
all  the  lines  and  leadings  of  God  in  spiritual  life 
and  evangelical  toil.  It  is  the  fashion  with  some 
modern  novelists  to  finish  their  stories  in  the  most 
atheistic  and  despairing  manner — the  mystery  and 
struggle  of  life  ending  in  unconsoled  sorrows, 
unrequited  sacrifices,  uncompensated  wrongs,  un- 
answered pi'ayers  and  strivings ;  the  palpable  moral 
of  such  treatment  being  that  there  is  no  law, 
government,  or  purpose  in  human  life.  We  know 
otherwise.  We  believe  in  the  programme  of  God, 
so  wise,  so  true,  so  good ;  and  in  our  best  moments 
we  are  confident  that  His  programme  cannot  fail. 
It  is  irrational  to  stand  still  and  doubtfully  reason 
in  the  dark  crises  of  experience  and  service.  It  is 
as  if  the  embiyo  in  the  half-hatched  egg  should 
attempt  to  reason  out  its  strange  situation ;  or  as 
if  the  chrysalis  should  demand  an  explanation  of 
its  mysterious  lot ;  or  as  if  a  flower  stalk,  half-way 
to  death,  half-way  to  beauty,  should  resist  any 
further  change  until  it  got  light  on  the  problem  of 


The  Order  of  the  Juniper-Tree     221 

its  being.  In  certain  stages  of  obscure  transition 
and  development  nothing  is  to  be  said ;  it  is 
altogether  a  question  of  duty,  of  duty  silently, 
steadily,  persistently  done.  Then  it  is  not  long 
before  the  lark  is  in  the  sky,  the  butterfly  on  the 
flower,  the  rose  in  the  sun,  the  saint  in  paradise. 
See  through  the  juniper  branches  the  green  im- 
mortal palms ;  go  forward  in  the  name  and 
strength  of  God. 


XXXII 

UNCAGED  BIRDS 

There    Is    that    scattereth,    and    yet    increaseth. — Paov. 
xi.  24. 

A  GOLD  medal  was  recently  awarded  Herr  von 
Prosch  for  his  success  in  introducing  tropical  birds 
into  German  forests.  Disliking  to  keep  his  pets 
in  cages,  his  canaries  were  first  liberated  in  a  large 
room,  then  allowed  to  pass  out  and  in  through  small 
windows,  always  getting  their  food  within.  The 
birds  soon  began  to  build  nests  outside,  and  to  rear 
their  young  there.  Two  pairs  of  South  American 
parrots  were  next  set  free,  and  during  the  summer 
they  raised  a  brood  of  young  which,  with  the  old 
birds,  passed  safely  through  the  exceptionally 
severe  winter.  This  new  bird  colony  is  situated  in 
southern  Saxony,  and  is  being  watched  with  great 
interest.  One  rejoices  to  read  intelligence  of  this 
kind,  for  rare  things  and  creatures  are  not  often 
given  to  the  public  in  tliis  way.  It  is  refresh- 
ing to   hear  of  the  fortunate   possessor  of  these 

2S& 


Uncaged  Birds  223 

beautiful    creatures    letting   loose   in   the    sombre 
forest  painted  birds  of  the  sun. 

But  does  not  the  fine  conduct  of  the  German 
naturahst  remind  us  that  a  large  part  of  our  com- 
mon duty  is  to  get  bright  and  blessed  things  into 
quarters  where  they  are  sadly  needed  ?  Instead  ot 
nui-sing  our  possessions  in  the  spirit  of  covetousness, 
jealousy,  and  pride,  instead  of  using  them  only  for 
personal  gratification,  must  we  not  seek  to  enrich 
the  world  with  them  ?  To  many  of  us  God  has 
given  precious  gifts,  and  we  lock  up  our  paragons, 
selfishly  feasting  on  their  loveliness  and  song.  We 
may  rejoice,  however,  that  such  exclusiveness  is  not, 
after  all,  the  characteristic  of  our  day.  The  com- 
munity has  been  largely  baptized  with  the  spirit  of 
unselfishness ;  and  even  the  newspapers,  which  so 
often  record  our  sordid  greed,  are  beginning  day  by 
day  to  chronicle  outbursts  of  splendid  charity.  The 
act  of  the  humane  naturalist  in  liberating  his  lovely 
birds  is  happily  paralleled  nearer  home  by  deeds  of 
grace  in  other  spheres.  For  ages  nobles  and  mil- 
lionaires have  kept  their  art  treasures  in  closely 
guarded  galleries,  seen  only  by  the  privileged  few ; 
but  in  our  day  a  more  enlightened  and  generous 
temper  prevails,  and  these  splended  heirlooms  are 
freely  exhibited.  Pictures,  statues,  cabinets,  ex- 
quisite work  of  the  loom  and  goldsmith,  long  seques- 
trated, as   oriental   birds   are   preserved   in   royal 


224  Uncaged  Birds 

aviaries,  have  become  familiar  to  the  multitude  ; 
the  cartoons  of  Belgravia  illuminate  VVhitechapel ; 
the  burnished  songsters  of  the  Orient  perch  where 
only  gutter  sparrows  were  seen  before.  And  in 
other  ways  rich  men  open  their  cages  and  allow 
their  less  fortunate  fellows  to  share  in  the  things 
of  rarity  and  beauty. 

Flower  distribution  is  another  expression  of  the 
same  spirit.  Choice  growths  now  find  their  way 
from  conservatories  to  the  window-sill  of  the  poor, 
to  the  bedside  of  the  sick,  and  to  all  sorts  of  forlorn 
and  dingy  corners.  Legend  relates  that  flowers 
once  had  language,  but  through  a  sad  fatality 
they  were  struck  dumb.  Christ,  however,  made 
the  lilies  speak  again,  and  many  a  grand  message 
is  breathed  from  their  sweet  hps.  A  little  while 
ago  we  saw  a  troop  of  old  pauper  women  returning 
through  the  London  streets  after  a  day  in  the 
country,  and  very  lovingly  they  bore  back  into 
the  bare  life  of  the  workhouse  the  posies  gathered 
in  the  summer  fields.  The  "  flower  missions " 
of  our  day  distributing  in  slums  and  hospitals 
the  dewy  blooms  of  far-off  gardens  is  no  mean 
thing  in  the  eyes  of  Him  who  scattered  the  jewels 
of  the  grass.  It  is  granted  that  to  throw  the  in- 
digent and  suffering  a  flower  would  not  avail  much 
if  it  were  intended  as  a  substitute  for  more  substan- 
tial relief;    but  the  cheering  truth  is,  that  these 


Uncaged  Birds  225 

missions  are  felicitous  symbols  of  the  growing 
humanity  of  the  age,  which  strives  in  a  tliousaucl 
ways  to  succour  misery's  sons  and  daughters. 

The  Book  Fund  and  its  Work  by  Mrs.  Spurgeon 
shovvs  that  widely  extended  good  is  achieved  by 
this  delicate  lady  through  her  generous  disti'ibution 
of  her  late  husband's  books.  How  much  instruc- 
tion, comfort,  impulse  they  bring  into  many  a  needy 
pastor's  study,  intellectual  and  spiritual  treasure  in 
turn  to  be  communicated  to  the  congregation  !  A 
poor  pastor's  meagre  library  is  a  pathetic  sight, 
what  little  there  is  on  the  scanty  shelves  having 
been  secured  by  real  sacrifice.  The  loving  benefi- 
cence which  scatters  the  goodly  volumes  of  the  great 
preacher  reminds  us  of  the  kindly  naturalist  irradi- 
ating the  dim  woods  with  golden  and  scarlet  birds. 
Some  bookcases  are  like  cages  in  which  winged 
captives  are  seen  drooping  behind  the  bars.  Very 
grateful  and  helpful  to  many  is  the  gift  or  loan  of 
a  well  selected  book ;  yet  people  who  have  more 
literature  than  they  know  what  to  do  with  forget 
this  form  of  generosity.  The  wonderful  creatures 
whose  wings  are  silver  and  whose  feathers  are 
yellow  gold  are  imprisoned  in  a  mahogany  cabinet 
when  they  might  be  at  large,  delighting  hungiy 
eyes  and  ears  with  beauty  and  music. 

Wealth  is  frequently  penned  up  when  it  might 
be  set  free  to  bring  bread  and  blessing  into  needy 

SKRIKS  I.  15 


226  Uncaged  Birds 

places.  We  have  wonderful  cages  of  steel  and 
stone,  where  it  is  immured  through  long  years, 
rendering  us  and  the  world  little  service.  Evil 
things  are  bred  of  such  hoarding.  "  As  a  cage 
is  full  of  birdsj  so  are  their  houses  full  of  deceit : 
therefore  they  are  become  great,  and  waxen  rich." 
How  these  guinea-fowl  would  brighten  many  a 
desolate  spot — social,  intellectual,  or  spiritual !  Of 
course  charity  must  be  cautious.  The  public- 
spirited  ornithologist  did  not  recklessly  fling  his 
birds  into  the  air;  if  he  had,  they  would  have 
straightway  perished  without  doing  any  good.  He 
spared  no  pains  to  fit  the  strangers  for  their  new 
home.  And  so  a  wise  philanthropy  works  wonders. 
It  can  minister  to  the  thousand  wants  of  those 
who  in  city  and  village  feel  the  cruel  sevei'ity 
of  hfe ;  it  can  instruct,  console,  heal,  reclaim, 
defend,  save.  It  can  send  forth  a  cloud  of  doves 
across  the  sea,  carrying  sweet  messages  of  peace 
and  life  to  nations  sitting  in  darkness  and  in  the 
shadow  of  death.  Vast  and  benign  is  the  power  of 
consecrated  wealth.  In  charity  more  than  in  any- 
thing else  it  is  true  that  "money  answereth  all 
things."  The  socialism  that  would  spoil  the  rich  is 
blackmail  rhetorically  expressed,  and  ought  to  be 
penalised  by  the  treadmill  as  blunt  robbery  is ;  but 
the  humanity  that  sacrifices  its  own  for  another  is 
humanity  at  its  best. 


Uncaged  Birds  227 

It  required  some  courage  in  the  warm-hearted 
German  to  commit  his  charming  birds  to  the  woods. 
The  prudent,  clever  people  would  no  doubt  be 
against  him,  and  call  him  what  long  before  they 
called  another  German  enthusiast,  Joseph  Wolff, 
a  "  bird-fool."  These  calculating  ones,  seeing  the 
living  glories  take  flight,  would  scoff  at  the  roman- 
tic act  of  an  amiable  fanatic.  Unfjimiliar  flowers 
are  immediately  uprooted ;  an  infi-equent  bird  is 
promptly  shot ;  a  rare  butterfly  has  a  pin  run 
through  it.  Fashion,  curiosity,  vanity,  and  selfish- 
ness prey  on  unique  things,  and  poachers  might 
soon  be  expected  to  snare  or  shoot  these  birds  of 
beauty.  Or  if  they  escape  the  sportsman  they 
must  succumb  to  the  climate.  Yet,  after  all 
prognostications,  the  result  seems  to  have  justified 
the  philanthropist's  romantic  speculation ;  he  has 
succeeded  in  naturalising  the  gay  children  of  the 
sun.  How  easy  it  is  to  criticise  and  mock,  how 
easy  to  show  the  folly  and  futility  of  attempting 
almost  any  kind  of  good  !  Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman 
can  demonstrate  triumphantly  the  unwisdom,  nay, 
the  wickedness  of  charity ;  the  greedy  poor  eat 
whatever  they  get,  and  after  food  are  hungrier  than 
before.  Religion  is  felt  by  others  to  be  too  dainty 
a  thing  for  the  rough  world,  its  ideals,  principles, 
and  graces  being  too  ethereal.  Did  not  some- 
one object  a   while   ago   that  the  sayings  of  the 


2  28  Uncaged  Birds 

Sermon  on  the  Mount  were  too  rare  for  the  common 
herd?  The  birds  of  heaven  which  sing  in  the 
trees  of  Lebanon,  which  make  their  nests  by  the 
altars  of  Zion,  must  not  be  incontinently  let  loose 
in  the  savage  wilderness.  The  rarities  of  cloistered 
saints  and  ethical  connoisseurs  are  not  to  be  thrust 
on  the  workaday  multitude.  And  when  the 
Church  would  proclaim  its  grand  doctrines  in  pagan 
lands,  how  earnestly  the  philosophers  assure  us 
that  the  climate  will  not  suit  them !  This  is  the 
worst  sort  of  infidelity,  and  we  must  resist  it. 
We  must  let  our  love-birds  loose  in  the  realms 
of  selfishness  and  hatred,  turn  our  sun-birds  into 
the  haunts  of  misery,  our  turtle  into  a  world  of 
strife,  our  phoenix  into  the  haunts  of  dark  despair, 
and  once  more  speed  the  dove  across  the  waters. 
These  birds  of  heaven  have  more  vitality  and 
robustness  than  some  people  think,  and  in  due 
time  they  will  drive  out  the  obscene  brood  of  the 
night.  The  inspirations  of  faith,  the  ingenuities  of 
love,  the  power  of  sacrifice,  the  invincibility  of 
patience  wUl  prevail  and  fill  the  whole  sphere  with 
charm  and  melody.  The  grand  work  of  the  Church 
of  God  is  to  make  her  precious  things  common,  to 
establish  the  highest  principles  as  the  rule  of  the 
multitude,  to  deck  the  poor  with  the  graces  of 
the  saints,  to  share  her  glorious  hopes  with  the 
redeemed  race. 


Uncaged  Birds  229 

The  German  ornithologist  is  none  the  poorer  for 
his  poetic  kindness,  for  his  originality  of  benefi- 
cence. Every  bush,  In-ake,  copse,  and  forest  will 
become  his  aviary.  In  the  birds  that  flash  like  fire 
in  gloomy  depllis,  that  gleam  in  the  sky  as  streaks 
of  rainbow,  that  give  the  boughs  a  colour  beyond 
their  blossoms,  that  light  up  the  grass  as  the  glow- 
ing flowers  do — in  all  the  glitter  and  flutings  of 
the  wide  woodland  the  kindly  philanthi'opist  will 
realise  a  real  and  an  intense  proprietorship.  We 
possess  and  multiply  riches  and  joy  by  being  faith- 
ful stewards  of  the  talents  entrusted  to  us.  How 
slow  we  are  to  understand  that  only  through  sym- 
pathy and  sacrifice  do  the  things  which  are  conven- 
tionally ours  become  really  ours  !  Christ  gave  us  a 
new  standard  of  proprietorship — the  real  standard  : 
He  taught  us  that  we  possess  as  we  share.  The 
prized  birds  cramped  in  narrow  cages  are  not  ours ; 
they  are  ours  only  when  liberated,  when  they  shine 
and  sing  for  a  larger  world  :  transformed  and  trans- 
figured in  the  light  of  love,  our  two  sparrows  sold 
for  a  farthing  shine  with  the  infinite  hues  of  trogon, 
toucan,  and  macaw,  and  warble  with  notes  welcome 
at  heaven's  gate.  Moreover,  the  German  savant 
received  a  gold  medal  from  his  king.  Heaven  also 
gives  golden  recompense  to  such  as  these. 


XXXIII 
BAD  DAYS 

That  ye  may  be  able  to  withstand   in   the  evil   day.-^ 
Eph.  vi.   13 

Recently  I  looked  over  some  of  mj  old  copybooks, 
written  more  than  fifty  years  ago,  and  I  am  bound 
to  say  that,  on  the  whole,  they  are  very  creditable. 
The  rising  generation  pays  little  heed  to  penman- 
ship ;  indeed,  we  are  expected  to  infer  that  the 
more  unintelligible  the  scribble  the  more  complete 
the  culture  of  the  scribbler.  In  the  old  days  it 
was  different ;  whatever  else  the  schoolmaster 
might  or  might  not  teach,  the  pupil  was  trained 
to  write  clearly  and  even  elegantly ;  a  pride  of 
penmanship  prevailed  that  might  be  revived  with 
advantage.  But  these  exemplary  copybooks  contain 
bad  pages  which  it  is  impossible  to  overlook.  Once 
or  twice,  perhaps,  in  each  number  occurs  a  scribbled, 
blotted,  stained,  tear-smeared  leaf,  altogether  at 
variance  with  the  generally  fair  workmanship ; 
one  might  almost  think  that  it  had  been  interpo- 
lated by  a  strange  hand.     These  erratic  portions  are 

230 


Bad  Days  231 

very  strange  to  look  at,  suggestive  ot  many  things. 
The  best  of  men  have  similarly  bad  days,  every  now 
and  then  painfully  failing.  Workers  of  all  kinds 
are  conscious  of  seasons  when  they  are  far  below 
their  true  selves,  and  when  their  work  is  weak, 
irregular,  and  blundering — the  painter's  pencil  is 
on  strike,  the  orator's  tongue  cleaves  to  the  roof 
of  his  mouth,  the  right  hand  of  the  artisan  misses 
its  cunning ;  and  the  higher  life  is  in  this  respect 
at  least  a  counterpart  of  the  intellectual  life.  The 
diaries  of  the  saints  reveal  days  when  they  un- 
accountably break  down,  and  everything  goes 
wrong.  The  usually  pleasant  pages  are  interrupted 
by  unhappy  records,  by  outbursts  of  temper  and 
murmuring,  and  sullied  by  tears  of  vexation  and 
unbelief.  There  are  days  when  a  rot  of  selfishness 
sets  in,  man-ing  the  magnanimity  of  the  soul ; 
days  when  in  the  dubious  bout  the  body  gets  the 
upper  hand,  and  the  spirit  fails  to  do  the  things  tliat 
it  would ;  days  when  the  temper  is  sour,  sulk}', 
sultry  ;  black-letter  days,  marked  by  stinginess,  un- 
chai-itableness,  unmercifulness ;  days  when  we  fall 
into  painful  questionings  and  scepticisms ;  days  in 
which  we  are  conscious  of  the  failure  of  higli, 
pure  motive  ;  days  deeply  disturbed  and  unhappy. 
We  are  not  at  these  times  what  we  usually  know 
ourselves  to  be,  not  what  our  friends  expect  to  find 
as.     We  are  below  our  best  self,  decidedly  below 


232  Bad  Days 

our  average  self.  In  the  biographies  of  Scripture 
bad  days  darken  lives  otherwise  bright  and  blame- 
less ;  and  altliough  in  current  biographical  writing 
these  unlovely  times  may  not  always  be  duly 
and  candidly  recorded,  yet  we  are  sure  that 
more  or  less  all  God's  people  know  the  sad 
and  sori'owful  moods  which  surprise  as  snow  in 
summer.  Autobiography,  which  is  a  later  copy- 
book, has  its  pages  marked  by  regretful  characters, 
as  the  earlier  copybooks  have  their  pathetic  dis- 
figurations. 

What  is  the  explanation  of  these  bad  days  ? 
What  was  the  matter  that  day  in  the  schoolroom  ? 
Weather  ?  health  ?  temper  ?  wilfulness  ?  It  is  im- 
possible now  to  discern  the  immediate  cause  of  the 
blurred  copy  ;  but  there  the  unfortunate  copy  is  real 
enough  and  sad  enough.  Wliat  is  the  ultimate  ex- 
planation of  the  days  of  failure  in  our  spiritual  life  ? 
Little  things,  very  little  things,  may  be  the  occasion 
of  these  distressing  days.  It  is  surprising  what 
slight  incidents  put  an  athlete  off  his  play,  con- 
fuse an  orator,  or  spoil  the  music  of  the  greatest 
master ;  the  merest  accident  disconcerts  them  and 
issues  in  a  bad  time  remembered  with  vexation 
and  shame  for  years.  And  trifles  are  apparently 
accountable  for  the  bad  days  of  our  religious  life. 
The  barometer  is  supposed  to  dominate  our  temper; 
a   slight    lack   of  tact  in  a  companion  or  servant 


Bad  Days  233 

occasions  our  unlovely  and  undignified  conduct ; 
a  bodily  ache  or  pain  explains  our  fretfulness 
and  gloom.  Little  is  necessary  to  provoke  us  and 
to  cause  us  to  reveal  ourselves  in  an  unhandsome 
aspect.  But  however  slight  the  occasion,  the  cause 
of  these  unhappy  days  usually  lies  deep  within. 
"  Who  can  understand  his  errors .''  cleanse  Thou  me 
from  secret  faults."  I  am  strongly  of  opinion  that 
the  bad  handwriting  in  the  copybook,  so  lament- 
ably loose,  so  shamefully  smeared,  departing  so 
widely  from  the  straight  lines,  falling  so  seriously 
below  the  ideal  and  standard  of  the  copperplate 
on  the  top  line — I  am  strongly  of  opinion,  I  say, 
that  all  this  was  the  culpable  result  of  a  fit  of 
temper,  heedlessness,  laziness,  or  defiance.  De- 
pend upon  it  that  whatever  apology  the  youthful 
scholar  offered  for  the  smudged  page,  it  was  the 
outcome  of  some  wickedness  or  other ;  so  at  least 
the  old  man  judges.  The  black  blots  and  reckless 
calligraphy  of  the  faded  leaf  awake  the  con- 
sciousness that  there  is  more  than  meets  the  eye, 
and  we  pray  with  the  psalmist,  "  Remember  not 
the  sins  of  my  youth,  nor  my  transgressions : 
according  to  Thy  mercy  remember  Thou  me  for 
Thy  goodness'  sake,  O  Lord."  Time  is  the  best 
commentator  on  some  texts,  and  we  think  it  is 
here.  So  we  must  not  too  lightly  explain  away 
the  bad  pages  of  our  later  history.     We  are  prone 


234  Bad  Days 

to  explain  our  moods  and  doings  by  meteorological 
conditions,  by  physiological  and  psychological 
peculiarities,  and  by  the  force  of  circumstances ; 
but  we  must  remember  that  it  is  still  true,  "■  out  of 
the  heart  are  the  issues  of  life,"  and  the  strange 
defects  and  failures  which  compromise  the  saints 
have  their  beginning  in  secret  flaws  of  the  spirit. 

We  do  not  believe  that  God  will  judge  us  alto- 
gether by  the  bad  pages.  It  is  a  stern  retrbution 
that  some  of  our  fellows  see  us  only  on  one  of  our 
bad  days,  and  ever  after  judge  us  accordingly. 
We  can  hardly  complain,  perhaps ;  they  took  a 
snapshot  on  the  only  occasion  that  offered,  and 
the  portrait,  though  ugly,  is  true,  and  we  are 
remembered  by  it.  They  caught  the  scornful  lip, 
the  moody  temper,  the  proud  forehead,  the 
countenance  distorted  and  discoloured  by  anger 
or  jealousy,  and  that  is  their  abiding  picture  of 
us.  It  is  as  if  they  had  seen  a  performer  when 
off  his  true  form,  as  if  they  had  visited  a  pleasant 
landscape  on  a  miserable  day  ;  and  they  conceive 
an  mifavourable  opinion  of  the  man  and  the  place, 
an  opinion  not  easily  got  rid  of.  This  may  teach 
us  not  to  judge  peoj)le  by  a  fugitive  interview, 
although  we  cannot  seriously  complain  that  we  are 
remembered  as  we  really  were.  Even  some  who 
know  us  well  judge  us  by  our  worst,  and  not  by  our 
best.     They  recall  the  exceptional  hastiness,  un- 


Bad  Days  235 

eourteousness,  uncharitableness,  intemperance,  and 
give  little  prominence  to  the  fair  average.  Can 
this  be  right  ?  I  do  not  judge  that  old  copybook 
by  its  worst  page  ;  and  I  must  not  judge  my 
brother  by  the  melancholy  lapse.  It  is  comforting 
and  strengthening  to  think  of  the  just  and  generous 
judgment  of  God.  "  For  God  is  not  unrighteous 
to  forget  your  work  and  labour  of  love,  which  ye 
have  showed  toward  His  name."  In  the  day  of 
our  weakness  and  blundering  God  remembers 
and  hopes,  so  we  live  to  write  our  story  in  fairer 
characters. 

Our  bad  days  are,  nevertheless,  subjects  for 
serious  consideration.  They  indicate  retrograde 
and  perilous  elements  of  character,  which  call  for 
watchfulness.  A  Manchester  photographer  relates 
that  he  once  took  a  photograph  of  a  child  who  was 
apparently  in  good  health  and  had  a  clear  skin. 
The  negative  showed  the  face  to  be  thickly  covered 
with  an  eruption.  Three  days  afterwards  the  child 
was  covered  with  spots  due  to  prickly  heat.  The 
camera  had  detected  and  photographed  the  eruption 
three  days  before  it  was  visible  to  the  naked  eye. 
Another  case  of  a  similar  kind  is  recorded  where 
a  child  showed  spots  on  his  portrait  which  were 
invisible  on  his  face  a  fortnight  previous  to  an 
attack  of  smallpox.  May  we  not  regard  the  bad 
days  in  our  spiritual  history  as  subtle  expressions  of 


236  Bad  Days 

evil  humours,  affinities,  and  possibilities,  which,  if 
not  wisely  and  promptly  checked,  will  by-and-by 
declare  themselves  in  grosser  and  deadlier  mani- 
festations ?  In  the  future  the  camera  may  be 
employed  to  detect  disease  in  its  very  earliest 
stages  and  obscure  revealings ;  and  we  may  well 
see  in  the  strange,  unpleasant  hours  of  our 
religious  life  premonitions  of  evils  which,  when 
fully  grown,  destroy  the  soul's  health  and  Ufe. 
Bad  days  have  a  tendency  to  protract  themselves, 
to  multiply  and  to  intensify  themselves.  We  ought, 
by  God's  grace,  to  strive  mightily  to  prevent  these 
days.  For  our  soul's  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of 
God's  cause,  we  ought  to  strive  to  this  end.  In 
one  bad  day  we  may  destroy  much  good  by  giving 
people  a  poor  conception  of  our  religion ;  we  may 
easUy  become  a  stumbling-block  to  weak  and  less 
instructed  souls.  Fully  awake  and  devoted,  every 
day  in  the  spuitual  life  will  be  a  red-letter  day. 


xxxrv 

SPIRITUAL  GROWTH 

I  w!U  be  as  the  dew  onto  Israel:  he  shall  grow  as  the  lily, 
and  cast  forth  his  roots  as  Lebanon.  His  branches  shall 
spread,  and  his  beauty  shall  be  as  the  olive-tree,  and  his 
smell  as  Lebanon.  They  that  dwell  under  his  shadow  shall 
return  ;  they  shall  revive  as  the  corn,  and  grow  as  the  vine : 
the  scent  thereof  shall  be  as  the  wine  of  Lebanon. — Hos. 
xiv.  5-7. 

In  this  beautiful  passage  several  aspects  of  spiritual 
growth  are  illustrated  by  lovely  images.  Coleridge 
defined  genius  as  "  the  faculty  of  growth  "  ;  good- 
ness belongs  to  the  same  order,  and  may  be 
similarly  defined.  It  is  ever  "becoming,"  chang- 
ing into  a  more  complete  and  diviner  thing. 

There  is  growth  in  purity :  "  He  shall  grow  as 
the  lily."  A  glance  into  our  heart  will  show  how 
much  room  there  is  for  growth  in  this  quality ; 
and  we  have  only  to  look  into  God's  word  to  find 
the  great  and  precious  promises  which  justify  the 
largest  expectations.  Some  say  that  in  a  luminous 
hour,  by  an  act  of  realising,  compelling  faith,  we 

find  entire  cleanness  of  heart,  whilst  others  insist 
U7 


238  Spiritual  Growth 

that  only  by  slow  developments  do  we  blossom 
into  the  purity  and  loveliness  of  the  lily.  Wesley 
believed  in  both  processes — instantaneousness  and 
growth:  "I  believe  this  perfection  is  always 
wrought  in  the  soul  by  faith,  by  a  simple  act  of 
faith  ;  consequently  in  an  instant.  But  I  believe 
a  gradual  work,  both  preceding  and  following  that 
instant."  ^  Wesley  felt  no  inconsistency  or  con- 
tradiction in  recognising  both  processes  in  the 
complete  haUowing  of  the  soul ;  neither  is  there. 
The  flower,  slowly  perfected  in  the  bud,  opens  in  a 
morning ;  and  deep  and  silent  purifications  proceed 
within  the  soul,  revealing  themselves  in  exalted 
and  glorious  hours.  The  gift  received  in  faith  was 
preceded  by  a  gi*acious  preparation,  and  the  gift 
received  in  faith  is  slowly  realised  in  its  fulness  of 
meaning  in  after-years.  We  must  expect  growth 
in  clearness  of  insight,  in  increasing  freedom  from 
pride  and  self,  in  new  blossomings  in  purity  of 
thought,  motive,  and  life.  And  let  us  not  stay  to 
discuss  the  method  of  sanctification ;  rather  let  us 
seek  to  think  ourselves,  to  pray  ourselves,  to  believe 
ourselves  into  it.  How  strangely  do  some  Christian 
people  revolt  from  the  doctrine  of  perfect  purity  of 
heart  and  life  !  The  translation  of  a  work  by  the 
present  writer  was  rejected  by  the  committee  of 
a  religious   society,  because   of  the  "tincture   of 

*  Tyerman,  Life  (f  Wesley,  vol.  ii.  p.  445, 


spiritual  Growth  239 

perfectionism"  which  pervaded  a  number  of  its 
assertions,  and  because  of  "its  lack  of  the  re- 
cognition of  man's  inherent  sinfuhiess  even  when 
regenerate."  So  sacred  a  thing  is  the  carnal 
mind !  We  must  plead  for  and  jealously  guard 
the  inherent  sinfulness  of  the  regenerate !  We 
have  been  taught  a  truer  doctrine.  **  The  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ  His  Son  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin." 

There  is  a  growth  in  depth ;  "  And  cast  forth 
his  roots  as  Lebanon."  Not  merely  the  deeply 
rooted  forest  of  Lebanon  is  intended,  but  the 
roots  of  the  mountain  itself,  as  one  of  the 
foundations  of  the  earth.  How  little  many  of  us 
read,  meditate,  or  pray !  And  this  is  the  reason 
that  our  branches  are  bare,  that  we  wither  at  the 
top.  We  want  more  pondering  in  our  heart,  more 
of  that  secret  assimilation  which  takes  fast  hold  of 
the  eternal  grounds  of  reason  and  righteousness. 
The  plants  which  grow  in  the  Alps  are,  as  a  rule, 
firmly  and  largely  rooted.  This  enables  them  to 
withstand  the  rough  winds  of  exposed  situations, 
and  also  allows  them  to  make  the  greatest  possible 
use  of  scanty  supplies  of  nutriment  in  the  often 
ax'id  soil.  An  authority  on  this  subject  writes : 
*'  Mountains  are  often  bare,  and  cliffs  are  usually 
devoid  of  soil ;  but  we  must  not  conclude  therefrom 
that  the  choice  jewellery  of  plant  life  scattered 
over  the  ribs  of  the  mountain  or  the  interstices  of 


240  Spiritual  Growth 

the  crag  live  upoii  little  more  than  the  mountain 
air  and  the  melting  snow.  Can  you  gauge  the 
depth  of  that  narrow  chink  from  which  peep  tufts 
of  the  beautiful  And  rosace  helvetica  ?  No ;  it  has 
gathered  the  crumbling  grit  and  scanty  soil  for 
ages  and  ages,  and  the  roots  enter  so  far  that 
nothing  the  tourist  carries  with  him  can  bring 
out  enough  of  them  to  enable  the  plant  to  exist 
elsewhere.  And  suppose  we  find  plants  growing 
apparently  from  mere  cracks  without  soil.  If  so, 
the  roots  simply  search  farther  into  the  heart  of 
the  flaky  rock,  so  that  they  are  safer  from  any 
want  of  moisture  than  if  in  the  best  and  deepest 
soil."  It  is  much  the  same  with  the  Christian 
character.  Whenever  we  find  strength  and  beauty 
of  character,  we  may  be  sure  that  they  spring  from 
depth  of  soul,  that  the  fibres  have  struck  deep  in 
the  everlasting  ti-uth  and  love.  And  gaining  this 
depth  we  enjoy  a  blessed  stability  and  peace.  We 
are  not  anxious  then  to  be  placed  in  propitious 
circumstances ;  our  higher  life  is  independent  of 
circumstances.  We  are  no  longer  moved  by  every 
wind  of  doctrine,  nor  captivated  by  each  ne^f 
fashion,  nor  perplexed  by  the  latest  sceptical 
theory,  nor  staggered  by  the  strange  trial  and 
temptation.  The  life  and  glory  of  the  Alpine 
flower  are  safe  because  the  plant  has  laid  hold 
of  secret  places  in  the  cleft  of  the  rock ;  and  the 


Spiritual  Growth  241 

Christian  life   is   strong  and   stable   hidden   with 
Christ  in  God. 

There  is  a  growth  in  breadth :  "  His  branches 
shall  spread."  There  is  spreading  of  roots  and 
of  boughs.  Not  unusually  we  commence  the 
spiritual  life  with  naiTow  and  ignorant  views  of 
the  divine  character  and  government ;  but  justly 
cultured,  the  soul  expands  in  the  knowledge  and 
love  of  God.  Says  the  immature,  untaught 
Christian,  Why  does  God  afflict  me  like  this  ? 
what  have  I  done  that  He  should  treat  me  thus 
rudely  ?  And  he  urges  fifty  other  foolish  ques- 
tions and  complaints.  A  true  believer,  however,  has 
the  capacity  of  growth,  and  comes  to  take  wider 
and  tnxer  views  of  God's  character  and  ways. 
"  When  I  was  a  child,  I  thought  as  a  child,  I 
reasoned  as  a  child,  I  spake  as  a  child :  but  when 
I  became  a  man,  I  put  away  childish  things," 
is  a  passage  as  true  of  the  spiritual  life  as  it  is 
of  the  natui'al.  How  little  some  grow  in  this 
larger  knowledge  of  Christ !  We  marvel  at  a 
man's  ignorance  of  history  when  he  asks  whether 
Shakespeare  is  still  living,  at  his  ignorance  of 
astronomy  when  he  thinks  that  the  stars  are  only 
a  few  miles  away,  at  his  ignorance  of  geography 
when  he  counts  a  continent  an  island ;  but 
Christians  express  views  equally  strange  about 
the  ways  of  God  and  the  spiritual  life.  We  sorely 
ssRiBS  I.  16 


242  spiritual  Growth 

need  to  grow  out  of  all  narrow  and  unworthy  mis- 
conceptions. There  is  also  a  growth  in  charity,  a 
growth  in  heart,  as  well  as  in  intelligence.  Writ- 
ing to  a  friend,  Wesley  says,  "  The  longer  I  live, 
the  larger  allowances  I  make  for  human  infirmities. 
1  exact  more  from  myself,  and  less  from  others." 
Wliat  a  true  sign  of  growth  !  A  man  is  spiritually 
a  thousand  years  old  who  sincerely  writes  like  that. 
The  finest  branches  belonging  to  a  garden  are 
those  that  run  over  the  wall — that  run  over  the 
limits  of  self,  the  boundary  of  our  habitation,  our 
denominational  palisade,  our  city  walls.  The 
growth  in  kindness,  sympathy,  and  catholicity  is 
the  divinest  growth. 

There  is  a  growth  in  beauty :  "  His  beauty  shall 
be  as  the  olive-tree,  and  his  smell  as  Lebanon." 
Mount  Lebanon  is  decked  with  loveliness,  and  it 
has  an  abundance  of  aromatic  things  and  odorifer- 
ous flowers.  So  increasing  gracefulness,  attrac- 
tiveness, and  charm  mark  those  who  go  on  to 
perfection.  There  is  something  special  about  the 
beauty  of  the  olive ;  it  has  a  charm  of  its  own. 
The  beauty  of  many  trees  arrests  attention  and 
compels  admiration  forthwith.  The  palm  at  once 
impresses  by  its  elegance,  the  apple  -  tree  by  its 
blossoms,  the  orange-tree  by  its  golden  fruit  and 
unique  fragrance,  the  tulip -tree  by  its  gorgeous 
flowers ;  the  olive,  however,  is  by  no  means  pictur- 


Spiritual  Growth  243 

esque — as  Leo  Grindon  says,  it  oftentimes  looks 
even  stunted  and  shabby.  In  our  greenhouses  and 
conservatories  it  is  rare,  a  circumstance  manifestly 
attributable  to  its  want  of  the  gay  features  of 
the  fuchsia  and  camellia.  But  the  soft,  delicate 
beauty  of  the  olive  grows  upon  you,  until,  stiiTcd 
by  the  wind,  the  shimmering  silver  of  its  leaves 
makes  a  picture.  You  then  see  why  it  has  been 
a  favourite  with  the  poets.  So  Christian  character 
is  often  not  in  the  least  brilliant,  heroic,  or  strik- 
ing. The  noblest  men  and  women  are  modest, 
homely,  simple  souls ;  yet  they  reveal  a  mild  and 
serious  grace  which  is  in  truth  the  perfection  of 
beauty.  In  this  unconscious  winsomeness  we 
ought  to  grow  unto  our  lives'  end. 

There  is  a  growth  in  usefubiess :  "  They  that  dwell 
under  his  shadow  sliall  return  ;  they  shall  revive  as 
the  com,  and  gi*ow  as  the  vine :  the  scent  thereof 
shall  be  as  the  wine  of  Lebanon."  What  com 
and  wine  are  to  men,  the  children  of  God  are  to 
the  world — they  diffuse  life  and  gladness.  Their 
ffiith,  sympathy,  counsel,  and  gifts  become  the 
inspiration,  light,  leading,  and  solacement  of  their 
neighbours.  This  service  is  the  very  glory  of  the 
Christian.  Some  men  closely  resemble  the  bitter 
roots  and  poisonous  fruits  of  nature — their  whole 
influence  is  baneful.  Others  exist  for  merely  sel- 
fish ends ;  their  entire  life  being  absorbed  in  their 


244  Spiritual  Growth 

own  indulgence  and  aggrandisement,  as  certain 
egoistic  plants  and  trees  fight  for  the  possession 
of  every  bit  of  space,  light,  and  moisture.  Many 
more  are  bent  only  on  vanity  and  j^ride,  as  the 
worthless  ragwort  sports  itself  in  gold  and  the 
poppy  clothes  itself  with  crimson.  But  the  glory 
of  the  Christian  is  that  he  hves  to  bless.  A  true 
Church  is  a  field  of  golden  com,  through  which  the 
Saviour  walks,  and  by  the  magic  of  His  blessing  it 
feeds  thousands ;  such  a  Church  is  a  loaded  branch 
in  the  true  Vine,  refreshing  many  lips  with  its 
clusters  of  celestial  virtue,  and  making  many 
hearts  to  sing  for  joy.  In  this  usefulness  we  ought 
to  grow.  It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  lapse 
of  time  impairs  a  man's  power  of  usefulness.  If  we 
live  fully  devoted  to  God,  we  are  ever  gathering 
power  and  ripeness,  and  are  being  fitted  for  the 
more  effectual  service  of  our  generation. 

"1  will  be  as  the  dew  unto  Isi-ael."  These 
words,  standing  at  the  beginning  of  this  passage, 
solve  the  whole  difficulty.  We  are  confused  and 
dismayed  when  called  upon  to  attain  and  exhibit 
these  high  perfections,  yet  all  is  easy  enough  in 
the  light  of  this  sweet  pi'omise.  The  garden  might 
be  bewildered  if  it  were  told  at  the  beginning  of 
the  year  of  all  that  was  expected  from  it — all 
wealth  of  colour,  the  daily  incense  of  morning, 
noon,  and  night,  the  delicate  essence  for  the  bee. 


Spiritual  Growth  245 

a  thousand  forms  of  beauty  and  manifold  fruits 
in  the  circling  seasons ;  but  its  task  is  ended 
and  its  fears  are  dissolved  when  once  it  submits 
to  the  royal  influences  of  the  sky.  So  we  need 
only  put  ourselves  under  this  gracious  promise. 
Everytliing  is  possible  in  the  power  of  grace,  as 
all  beauty  and  fruitfulness  are  possible  in  the  dew- 
drop.  In  silent  and  secluded  hours  let  us  muse 
and  pray  until  our  soul  is  full  of  the  heavenly  dew, 
and  our  character  and  life  sliall  lack  no  good  thing. 
•'  I  will  be  as  the  dew  unto  Israel."  Everything  is 
gimple  and  easy  in  that  glorious  fact.  ''And  the 
very  God  of  peace  sanctify  you  wh(»lly  ;  and  I  pray 
God  your  whole  spirit  and  soul  and  body  be  pre- 
served blameless  unto  the  coming  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  Faithful  is  He  that  calleth  you,  who 
also  will  do  il," 


XXXV 
INFLUENCE 

Awake,  O  north  wind  ;  and  come,  thou  south ;  blow  upon 
my  garden,  that  the  spices  thereof  may  flow  out. — Sol- 
Song,  iv.  i6. 

"  One  of  the  most  mysterious  elements  of  flowers  is 
the  perfume,  the  essential  action  of  which  in  plant 
life  cannot  be  demonstrated  by  the  wisest  of  our 
scientific  men.  Gas  can  be  weighed,  but  not  scent 
The  smallest  known  insect  that  lives  in  the  heart 
of  a  rose  can  be  caught  by  a  microscope-lens  and 
made  to  give  up  the  secret  of  its  organisation,  but 
what  it  is  that  the  warm  summer  brings  us  from 
the  wild  flowers  of  the  hillsides  or  wafts  to  us  from 
the  choice  exotics  of  the  hothouse  no  man  has 
been  able  to  determine.  So  fine,  so  subtle,  so 
imponderable,  it  eludes  weights  and  measures." 

Does  not  this  subtle  fragrance  remind  us  of  the 
strange,  sweet  influence  that  distils  from  genuine 
souls  ?  No  one  can  exactly  understand  this  influ- 
ence ;  it  defies  explanation.  Unlike  speech  that 
can  be  heard,  gifts  \:  hich  can  be  estimated,  acts 


Influence  247 

that  appeal  to  the  senses,  or  conduct  whose  features 
may  be  (J escribed,  influence  is  altogether  etherea* 
and  illusive;  yet  it  is  a  fact,  and  one  of  the  most 
delightful  of  facts.  It  is  almost  impossible  to 
•write  a  biography  of  some  of  the  very  choicest  of 
God's  children.  They  have  charmed,  helped,  and 
inspired  us,  moulded  our  character,  deeply  influ- 
enced us  for  good,  made  it  possible  for  us  to  believe 
in  the  highest  ideals,  and  yet  when  we  sit  down 
with  love  and  reverence  to  give  an  account  of  them 
we  are  quite  at  a  loss  what  to  set  down.  The 
biographer  lacks  material ;  yes,  material,  just  that, 
the  gi'eatest  fact  in  life  being  the  immaterial.  We 
cannot  describe  the  scent  of  the  sweet-briar,  paint 
the  odour  of  the  rose,  take  a  photograph  of  the 
sweet  smell  of  a  field  that  the  Lord  has  blessed,  or 
track  through  the  air  the  pervasive  breath  of  pink 
and  carnation,  of  violet  and  primrose  ;  neither  can 
we  \vrite  a  memoir  of  some  of  the  most  delightful 
and  influential  of  saints.  Lives  of  very  little  real 
importance  sometimes  furnish  incidents  enough  to 
fill  a  big  book,  whilst  all  that  is  interesting  touch- 
ing a  multitude  of  brave  and  gracious  men  and 
women  easily  goes  into  a  single  page,  just  as  the 
smallest  phial  contains  the  essence  of  ten  thousand 
roses. 

Many  Christians  are  really  and  eminently  serving 
the  cause  of  God  by  simply  diffusing  the  sweet 


248  Influence 

influences  of  tnie,  consecrated  character.  Thej 
cannot  fill  responsible  office,  play  a  prominent 
part,  or  effect  anything  worthy  of  record ;  yet 
they  charm  and  bless  all  about  them  as  the  flower 
of  the  field  diffuses  vitality  and  health.  Their 
smell  is  as  Lebanon,  that  is  all.  Yet  how  much 
this  virtue  shed  on  the  desert  air  means  !  Example 
that  has  no  voice,  the  commonplace  deed  that 
secures  no  chronicle,  the  pei'sonal  magnetism  that 
defies  analysis — these  are  precious,  silent  forces 
making  for  righteousness.  No  philosophy  can 
explain  the  mysterious  elements  of  Christian 
influence ;  but  such  influence  is  the  supreme  force 
working  in  society  for  its  purification  and  uplift- 
ing. Let  us  aim  at  the  sincerest,  deepest,  purest 
personal  life,  and  we  shall  bless  the  world  more 
than  we  think  :  we  shall,  unperceived  by  ourselves, 
be  enriching  it  all  day  long  with  the  ethers  of 
heaven. 


INDEX 


Action,  36 ;  feeling  dis- 
ciplined by,  86 

Actions,  small,  glory  of,  5  ; 
their   ir.fkience,   8 

Adversity,  days  of  worldly, 
213 

Africans,  singular  disorder 
of,  75 

Amen,  98 

Ancient  morality,   104 

Apostasy,      beginnings      of, 

173 

Artist,  divine  power  in,  116 

Aspiration,   19 

Assize,  the  Great,  revela- 
tion at,  2 

Atonement,  doctrine  of, 
perverted,    63 

Bad  days,  230 

Beauty,    the    perfection    of, 

243 
Besetting  sins,  33 
Bird     colony     in     southern 

Saxony,    222 
Blessing,    inward,    51  ;     the 

second,  54 


Bonar,  Andrew,  experience 
of,   22 ;    his  temptations, 

151 
Brink  of  failure,   17 
Burdensome    things,    50 

Calling  and  character,  159 
Camera,   the,   and  morality. 

Character,  test  and  reward 
of,  7 ;  dry-rot  in,  42 ; 
attainment  in,  60 ;  im- 
practicable standards, 
69;  and  will,  no;  and 
the  Spirit,  119;  graces 
of,  130;  Christian,  and 
professional  life,  160; 
depth   of,   240 

Chinese  fondness  for  dress, 

13 
Christ,  and  failure,  17;  the 
crowning  gift  of  God, 
26 ;  naturalness  of,  72  ; 
Lord  of  death,  92 ; 
source  of  sympathy  and 
strength,  94 ;  King  of 
the  unknown,  97 ;  moral- 


249 


250 


Index 


ity  of,   104;    twofold  re- 
ception   of,    134;     sacri- 
fices for,   139 
Christian    conscience,    105 ; 
compared    with    worldly, 

—  duty,    106 

—  goodness,    104,    106 

—  life,  and  defeat,  17; 
diligence  in,  128;  vigi- 
lance needed,    146 

—  masters  and  servants, 
107 

—  morality,   105 

—  obedience,  106 

—  progress,    175 
Christian's  glory,  to  live  to 

bless,  244 
Christians,     faults     of,    46, 

68 ;        attitude      towards 

death,      98 ;       obligations 

of,   103 
Christianity,    the    glory    of, 

92 ;    more  than   morality, 

107;    and  curiosity,   182; 

and  gain,   184 
Church    distinct    from    the 

world,    :o8 
Circumstances,    meagreness 

of,      3 ;       and      personal 

faults,    34 ;     and    feeling, 

81 
Cleverness,  defeat  of,   12 
Coleridge's      definition      of 

genius,  337 


Conscience,  57 ;  defective, 
sign  of,  66 ;  Christian, 
1 05;  worldly,  105;  and 
calling,    i6i 

Conscientiousness,  an  ex- 
acting, 65 ;    man  of,   68 

Consecration,  spirit  of,   199 

Covetousness,    124 

Cowardice,  cure  :or,  33 

Creatures  of  the  Old 
World,  24 

Cross,  the  brink  of  failure, 
17 

Crosskey,  Henry  W.,  on 
betting,   78 

Culture,  religious,  special- 
ism in,  39 

Dangers  in  life,   145 

Darwin's  experiment  with 
cobra,  97 

David,  his  conscious  integ- 
rity, 189;  his  trust  in 
God,  192 

Day,  the  last,  5  ;  things  of 
insignificance      revealed, 

5 

Days,  our  appointed,  89 
Death,     prospect     of,     87 ; 
certainty      of,      88 ;       its 
seeming      fortuitousness, 
92 ;      power    of,    limited, 
96 ;     synonym   for,   203 
Debility,  peril  of,  76 
Decay,  beginnings  of,  176 


Index 


251 


Declension,  spiritual,  signs 
of,  171 

Deeds,  trivial,  greatness  of, 
2 ;  great  principles  ex- 
pressed in,  4 

Degradation,  synonym  for, 
203 

Departure,  points  of,   143 

Depression,    74 

Despondency,  spiritual,  215; 
and  humiliation,  216; 
and  evangelical  work,  217 

Devotions,   38 

Diligence,  129;  and  beauti- 
ful things,   130 

Discouragement,   19 

Doctrinal  fastidiousness,  62 

Domestic  life,  influence  of, 
164 

Down-grade,  the,  147 

Dry-rot,  prevention  of,  44 

Dust,  meaning  of,  202 ; 
soul  cleaving  to,  unnat- 
ural, 202,  dishonourable, 
203,   destructive,   203 

Dying,  physical,  14 

Easter,  a  meditation  for,  87 
Ecclesiastical         life,         its 

snares,   166 
Enervation,    the    result    of 

neglect,   74 
Enthusiasm,  absence  of,  73 
Environment,  34 ;    and  call- 
ing, 159;    change  of,  169 


Envy,  canker  of,  23 
Error,  descent  into,   146 
Evil,        quest        for,        16; 
thoughts,  24 ;  unmastered, 
remedy    for,    51  ;     things, 
129;     beginnings    of,    in- 
sidious, 148 
Evils  of  specialism,  67 
Exaggeration,    as    besetting 

sin,  33 
Excellence,  and  failure,  18; 
an  ideal,  effects  of  striv- 
ing for,  46 
Excessive      solicitude,      its 

peril,  65 
Experience,  of  Andrew  Bo- 
nar,  22 ;  Christian,  value 
of  feeling  in,  80 ;  of 
James  Hamilton,  when 
dying,  93,  132;  of  Jenny 
Lind,  99;  Christian,  no; 
a  lost  soul's,   153 

Failing,  precautions  against, 
37 

Failure,  the  Cross  its  brink, 
17 ;  in  spiritual  life,  its 
explanation,  232 

Faith,  7 ;  increase  of,  47 ; 
false  and  true,  135;  de- 
cline of,  and  critical  tem- 
per, 172;  its  power,  193; 
mistaken  view  of,  193; 
Christian,  and  hope  re- 
buked,  211 


252 


Index 


Faitlifulness,    122,    128 
Falling  away,  results  of,  73 
Family    prayer    and    weari- 
ness,  75 
Faults,  tenacity  of,  32 ;  re- 
strained, 34 ;  deep-rooted, 
129 
Feeling,  value  of,  in  Chris- 
tian   experience,   80 ;    un- 
trustworthiness     of,     84 ; 
must   be   disciplined,    85 ; 
morality  of,   112 
Fire,  divine,    14 
Flower   distribution,    224 
Forbearance,    8 ;    in    Chris- 
tian home,  107 
Foster,  John,  on  genius,  11 1 

Gambling,  78 

Garden,  a  neglected,   131 

Genius,  unconsciousness  of, 
2 

Gift,  the  greatest,  and  the 
greatest  Giver,  26 

Gifts,  affected  by  conduct, 
122 

Glorification  through  suf- 
fering, 213 

God,  99 ;  fellowship  with, 
100;  first  departure  from, 
146 ;  Israel's  departure 
from,  150;  grace  of,  wit- 
nesses to,  167 ;  faithful- 
ness to,  200 ;  quickening 
by,  206;   as  refined,   214 


Goodness,  unconsciousness 
of,  3 ;  its  source  and 
secret,  121  ;  ideal  rela- 
tion to,   187 

Grace,  27 ;  of  God  and  le- 
gitimate calling,  167;  its 
triumphs,  190;  quicken- 
ing, 202 

Growth,  spiritual,  237 

Half-lawful  things,  tempta- 
tions to,   152 

Harmony  in  Christian  home, 
107 

Harvest,  failure  to  reap, 
199  ;  dirge  of  the,  208 

Health,  and  spiritual  life,  33 

Heart,  hidden  man  of,  13  ; 
enlargement  of,  its  mean- 
ing, 47  ;  wanderings,  their 
cause,  153  ;  man's,  a  won- 
derful magnet,  207 

Heaven,  power  of,  27 ;  the 
true  way  to,  51 

History,  its  highest  prod- 
ucts,  26 

Holiness,  as  personal  adorn- 
ment,  186 

Holy  Spirit,  belief  in,  122; 
offences  against,  124 ; 
quenching  the,  126;  fruit 
of,   127 

Hope,  brought  by  Christ, 
28  ;  new,  inspired  by  God, 
207 


Index 


^53 


Human  nature,  and  neglect, 

131 
Humiliation,  spirit  of,  199; 

and  despondency,  216 

Ideals,  beware  of  lowering 
our,   48 ;   straining   after, 

71 

Imperfect  attachments  to 
Christ,  by  curiosity,  182; 
custom,  183 ;  interest, 
184;  taste,   185 

Importance  of  a  small  part, 
5  ;   great  positions,  6 

Incarnation,  its  doctrine  at- 
tenuated, 62 

Infidelity,  worst  sort  of, 
228 

Influence,  people  without, 
3 ;  of  weather,  82 ;  of 
manual  labour,  164;  its 
subtlety,  246 ;  of  conse- 
crated character,  248 

Ingenious  excuses,  52 

Insignificance,    security   of, 

97 
Inspiration    and    dejection, 

19 
Instinct  stronger  than  will 

or  reason,  98 
Inward  thought,  13 

Joy,  increase  of,  47 
Judgment,  surprises  of  the, 


Juniper-tree,   the   Order  of 

the,  213 
Justification  by  works,   189 

Kindness,  the  man  of,  68 
Knowledge,  increase  of,  47 ; 
feeling  disciplined  by,  85 

Lack  of  faith,  its  dangers, 
153 

Lame  man  at  the  Beautiful 
Gate,  119 

Languor,    symptoms    of,    74 

Law,  its  severity,  27 

Legal  profession  and  char- 
acter, 160 

Life,  divine,  ebb  of,  14;  the 
path  of,  143 ;  starting- 
points  for  higher,  144 ; 
privileged  moments  in, 
155 ;  a  blighted  harvest- 
field,   210 

Literature,  147 ;  its  distri- 
bution, 225 

Lives,  not  the  sport  of  fate, 
91 

Love,  increase  of,  47 ;  its 
ingenuities,  78 ;  the  law 
of  death,  93  ;  and  forgive- 
ness ;  137;  its  power, 
138;  God's,  reciprocation 
of,    191 

Lyell,  Sir  Charles,  and  the 
importance  of  small 
things,  7 


254 


Index 


Man,  supernatural  element 
in,   ii8 

Marcus  Aurelius  on  life 
and  death,  90 

Mechanical    work,    117 

Mercy,  disregarded,  29 ; 
God's  delight  in,    198 

Mind,   spectres  of  the,    112 

Mission  of  Israel,   143 

Monasticism,   70 

Money,  the  love  of,   124 

Moods,  114;  perilous,  125; 
explanation  of,  234 

Moral  estimates,  13 ;  pho- 
tography, 56,  234,  236; 
freaks,  71 ;  perfection,  its 
difficulty,  73 ;  life  and 
spiritual  gifts,  122;  chro- 
matics, 180 

Morbid  introspection,   64 

New  Testament,  holiness 
higher  than  philosophical 
morality,  107;  goodness 
in  public  life,  108 

New  Year,  meditation  for, 
195 

Obedience,  its  path,  47 
Opportunities,    limit    fixed, 

197  ;  slipped,  199 
Outspokenness,   68 

Pampered  conscience,  65 
Penmanship,  230 


Pentecost,  the  spark  of,  28 ; 
meditation   for,    116 

Perfection,  and  suffering, 
213;  Wesley's  definition 
of,   238 

Personal  integrity,  con- 
sciousness of,  191 

Positivism,  70 

Power,  secret  of,  52 ;  of 
custom  in  Christian  life, 
183 

Powers,  physical,  decline 
in,   176 

Practical  life,  withdrawal 
from,  a  mistake,   168 

Prayer,   39 ;    its  power,   78 

Priest,  examination  by,  15 

Progress,  secret  of,  52 

Prometheus  and  the  human 
soul,  legend  of,  2y 

Proprietorship,  new  stand- 
ard of,   229 

Protestantism,  false  striv- 
ings of,  70 

Purity,  its  power,  27 ;  and 
dry-rot,  44 ;  man  of,  68 ; 
and  faith,  237 

Reading  and  personal  life, 
38 

Refractoriness  of  men,  41 

Religion,  true,  138;  mis- 
taken views  of,   193 

—  of  Christ,  63 ;  a  religion 
of  doing,   103,   109 


Index 


^SS 


Religious  life,  limit  of  op- 
portunities fixed,   197 
Relinquishment     of     study, 

35 
Righteousness,  27 

Sacrifice,  139 

Sacrilege,    the    worst   kind, 

15 

Saints,  ministering  to,  31; 
our  calling,  129 

Scepticism,    150 

Science,  teaching  of,  con- 
cerning death,  96 

Self-acquaintance,  duty  of, 
II 

Self-denial,   blessedness   of, 

35 

Self-examination,  10 

Self-revelation,  55 ;  its  se- 
riousness, 58 

Sermon  on  the  Mount,  com- 
pared with  other  teach- 
ings,  104,   106 

Sin,  its  tenacity,  23 ;  cold- 
ness of  heart,  112; 
Christ's  treatment  of, 
141  ;  and  sorrow,  205 

Social  duty  and  spiritual 
prosperity,    193 

Sorrow,  conscious  bondage 
of,  204 ;  sacred,  204 ; 
cruel,  205 

Soul,  its  features,  1 1 ;  ex- 
pansion,     S3  >     influence 


of  physical  life  upon,  82 ; 
proper  attitude  of,  113; 
experience  of  lost,  153; 
its  elusive  insights  and 
moods,  156;  loss  of  sensi- 
bility, 174 
Spiritual  climatology,  34 

—  decay,  signs  of,  in  crit- 
ical temper,  172;  abate- 
ment of  feeling,  173;  re- 
laxed conscience,  174; 
worldliness,  175 

—  enrichment  and  self- 
respect,  194 

—  growth,  in  purity,  237; 
depth,  239;  breadth,  241; 
beauty,  242 ;  usefulness, 
243 

—  life,  mistakes  of,  52 ;  its 
end,  77 ;  sceptic's  testi- 
mony to,  120;  unconscious 
declining  in,  176 ;  failure 
in,   232 

—  suicide,    175 
Starting-points,      imperfect, 

in  Christian  life,  186 

Strained  piety,  61 

Stumbling-blocks,  49 

Supernatural  power,  and 
character,   118 

Superstition,  half  -  way 
houses  to,  147 

Suspense  and  failure,  18 

Sympathy,  feeling  disci- 
plined by,  86 


256 


Index 


Taine's  idea  of  Christianity, 
185 

Temper,  sensual,  123;  secu- 
lar, 124;  sadness,  125; 
slothful,  126;  and  failure, 
232 
Temperance,  and  photog- 
raphy, 55  ;    man  of,  68 

Temptation,  an  English- 
man's, 151 

Temptations,  in  commercial 
life,  161  ;  of  soldiers  and 
sailors,   163 

Thankfulness,  spirit  of,  198 

Thefts,  experience  of  police 
concerning,   148 

Time,  on  man's  side,  195; 
and  mercy,  196;  oppor- 
tunity, 196;  hope,  197; 
against  man,    197 

Training  in  the  spiritual 
life,  32 

Trial,  unsanctified,  40 

Turning  aside,  seriousness 
of,   152 

Uncaged  birds,  223 
Unrighteousness,    outgoings 
of,  22 


Unselfishness,    223 

Vices,  disguises  of,  21 
Virtue,  no  real  accident  to, 

89 
Virtues,    inordinate   culture 

of,  67 

Wealth,  225 

Weariness,  73 ;  symptoms 
of,   75 

Weather,  psychology  of,  81 

Wickedness,  descent  into, 
gentle,   148 

Will,  the,  in  Christian  ex- 
perience, no;  sovereign- 
ty of,  no;  a  master 
cause,  114;  cultivation  of, 
114 

Wordsworth's  poems,  their 
influence  on  John  Stuart 
Mill,   206 

Worldliness,  124;  lapse  in- 
to, 147 ;  its  spirit,  202 

Worship,  public,  neglect  of, 
178 

Year's  privileges,    198 
Youth,  dangers  to,  144 


DATE  DUE 

^-.-i-.."- 

.mmmmmmi 

If 

GAYLORD 

PRINTED  IN  U.S.A. 

|liUililUII 


Princeton   Theological  Semmary-Speer 


1    1012  01001   4126 


